MORE  NEW  ARABIAN  NIGHTS 


THE  DYNAMITER 


BY 
ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 

r* 

AND 

FANNY  VAN  de  GRIFT  STEVENSON 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1895 

[All  rights  reserved] 


. 


3  00  L 


rf 


'£ 


TO 

MESSRS.  COLE  AND  COX, 

POLICE  OFFICERS. 


GENTLEMEN— In  the  volume  new  in  your  hands,  the  authors 
have  touched  upon  the  ugly  devil  of  crime,  with  which  it  is  your  glory 
to  have  contended.  It  icere  a  waste  of  ink  to  do  so  in  a  serious  spirit. 
Let  us  dedicate  our  horror  to  acts  of  a  more  mingled  strain,  where 
crime  preserves  some  features  of  nobility,  and  where  reason  and 
humanity  can  still  relish  the  temptation.  Horror,  in  this  case,  is  due 
to  Mr.  Parnell :  he  sits  before  posterity  silent,  Mr.  Foster's  appeal 
echoing  down  the  ages.  Horror  is  due  to  ourselves,  in  that  we  have  so 
long  coquetted  with  political  crime  ;  not  seriously  weighing,  not  acutely 
following  it  from  cause  to  consequence ;  but  xoith  a  generous,  unfounded 
heat  of  sentiment,  like  the  schoolboy  with  the  penny  tale,  applauding 
what  icas  specious.  When  it  touched  ourselves  (truly  in  a  vile  shape) 
we  proved  false  to  these  imaginations;  discovered,  in  a  clap,  that 
crime  was  no  less  cruel  and  no  less  ugly  under  sounding  names :  and 
recoiled  from  our  false  deities. 

But  seriousness  comes  most  in  place  when  we  are  to  speak  of  our 
defenders.  Whoever  be  in  the  right  in  this  great  and  confused  war  of 
politics;  whatever  elements  of  greed,  whatever  traits  of  the  bully, 
dishonor  both  parties  in  this  inhuman  contest; — your  side,  your  part, 
is  at  least  pure  of  doubt.  Yours  is  the  side  of  the  child,  of  the  breeding 
woman,  of  individual  pity  and  public  trust.  If  our  society  icere  the 
mere  kingdom  of  the  devil  (as  indeed  it  wears  some  of  its  colors')  it  yet. 
embraces  many  precious  elements  and  many  innocent  persons  whom  it 


32098  * 


4- 


vi  DEDICA  TION. 

is  a  glory  to  defend.  Courage  and  devotion,  so  common  in  the  ranks 
of  the  police,  so  little  recognized,  so  meagerly  rewarded,  have  at  length 
found  their  commemoration  in  an  historical  act.  History,  which  trill 
represent  Mr.  Parnell  sitting  silent  wider  the  appeal  of  Mr.  Foster, 
and  Gordon  setting  forth  upon  his  tragic  enterprise,  tcill  not  forget  Mr. 
Cole  carrying  the  dynamite  in  his  defenseless  hawte,  nor  Mr.  Cox 
coming  coolly  to  his  aid. 

R OBER T  LOUIS  STE VENSON. 
FANNY  VAN  BE   GRIFT  STEVENSON. 


4 


/ 


A  NOTE  FOR  THE   READER. 

It  is  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  you  may  take  up 
this  volume,  and  yet  be  unacquainted  with  its  predecessor  ; 
the  first  series  of  New  Arabian  Nights,  The  loss  is  yours 
— and  mine  ;  or  to  be  more  exact,  my  publisher's.  But  if  you 
are  thus  unlucky,  the  least  I  can  do  is  to  pass  you  a  hint. 
When  you  shall  find  a  reference  in  the  following  pages  to  one 
Theophilus  Godall  of  the  Bohemian  Cigar  Divan  in  Rupert 
Street,  Soho,  you  must  be  prepared  to  recognize,  under  his 
features,  no  less  a  person  than  Prince  Florizel  of  Bohemia, 
formerly  one  of  the  magnates  of  Europe,  now  dethroned, 
exiled,  impoverished,  and  embarked  in  the  tobacco  trade. 

R.  L.  S, 


t 


CONTENTS. 


THE    DYNAMITER 


Peologue  of  the  Cigak  Divan     .            .            .  .  1 

Challoner's  Adventure  :  The  Squire  of  Dames  .  .     12 

Story  of  the  Destroying  Angel      .            .  .  .26 

The  Squire  of  Dames  (concluded)            .            .  .  .77 

Somerset's  Adventure  :  The  Superfluous  Mansion  .  .  101 

Narrative  of  the  Spirited  Old  Lady        .  .  .  109 

The  Superfluous  Mansion  {continued)    .            .  .  .149 

Zero's  Tale  of  the  Explosive  Bomb           .  .  .  188 

The  Superfluous  Mansion  (continued)    .            .  .  .202 

Desborough's  Adventure  :  The  Brown  Box     .  .  .  216 

Story  of  the  Fair  Cuban       .....  226 

The  Brown  Box  (concluded)          .           .           .  .  .280 

The  Superfluous  Mansion  (concluded)    .           .  .  .298 

Epilogue  of  the  Cigar  Divan     .           .           .  .  .312 


)  ,      o„      "> 


NEW  ARABIAN  NIGHTS 

> 

A  SECOND  SERIES. 


THE    DYNAMITER 


I 


PROLOGUE  OF  TEE  CIGxiB  DIVAN. 

N  the  city  of  encounters,  the  Bagdad  of  the 
West,  and,  to  be  more  precise,  on  the  broad 
northern  pavement  of  Leicester  Square,  two 
young  men  of  five-  or  six-and-twenty  met  after 
years  of  separation.  The  first,  who  was  of  a  very 
smooth  address  and  clothed  in  the  best  fashion, 
hesitated  to  recognize  the  pinched  and  shabby 
air  of  his  companion. 

"  What ! "  he  cried,  "  Paul  Somerset  ? ' 

"lam  indeed  Paul  Somerset,"  returned  the 
other,  "or  what  remains  of  him  after  a  well- 
deserved  experience  of  poverty  and  law.  But 
in  you,  Challoner,  I  can  perceive  no  change  ; 
and  time  may  be  said,  without  hyperbole,  to 
write  no  wrinkle  on  your  azure  brow." 

"  All,"  replied  Challoner,  "is  not  geld  that 
glitters.     But  we  are  here  in  an  ill  posture  for 


2  PROLOGUE. 

confidences,  and  interrupt  the  movement  of 
these  ladies.  Let  us,  if  you  please,  find  a  more 
private  corner." 

tk  If  you  will  allow  me  to  guide  you,"  replied 
•JSomer.Mu,  "I  v  ill  offer  you  the  best  cigar  in 
London." 

And  taking  the  arm  of  his  companion,  he  led 
him  in  silence  and  at  a  brisk  pace  to  the  door 
of  a  quiet  establishment  in  Rupert  Street,  Soho. 
The  entrance  was  adorned  with  one  of  those 
gigantic  Highlanders  of  wood  which  have 
almost  risen  to  the  standing  of  antiquities  ;  and 
across  the  window-glass,  which  sheltered  the 
usual  display  of  pipes,  tobacco,  and  cigars, 
there  ran  the  gilded  legend:  "  Bohemian 
Cigar  Divan,  by  T.  Godall."  The  interior  of 
the  shop  was  small,  but  commodious  and  ornate: 
the  salesman  grave,  smiling,  and  urbane  ;  and 
the  two  young  men.  each  puffing  a  select  regalia, 
had  soon  taken  their  places  on  a  sofa  of  mouse- 
colored  plush  and  proceeded  to  exchange  their 
stories. 

"I  am  now,"  said  Somerset,  "a  barrister; 
but  Providence  and  the  attorneys  have  hitherto 
denied  me  the  opportunity  to  shine.  A  select 
society  at  the  Cheshire  Cheese  engaged  my 
evenings  ;  my  afternoons,  as  Mr.  Godall  could 
testify,  have  been  generally  passed  in  this 
divan  ;  and  my  mornings,  I  have  taken  the 
precaution  to  abbreviate  by  not  rising  before 


PROLOGUE.  3 

twelve.  At  this  rate,  my  little  patrimony  was 
very  rapidly,  and  I  am  proud  to  remember, 
most  agreeably  expended.  r  Since  then  a  gen- 
tleman, who  has  really  nothing  else  to  recom- 
mend him  beyond  the  fact  of  being  my  matern- 
al uncle,  deals  me  the  small  sum  of  ten  shil- 
lings a  week  ;  and  if  you  behold  me  once  more 
revisiting  the  glimpses  of  the  street  lamps  in 
my  favorite  quarter,  you  will  readily  divine 
that  I  have  come  into  a  fortune." 

"I  should  not  have  supposed  so,"  replied 
Challoner.  "  But  doubtless  I  met  you  on  the 
way  to  your  tailor's." 

"It is  a  visit  I  purpose  to  delay,"  returned 
Somerset,  with  a  smile.  "My  fortune  has  defi- 
nite limits.  It  consists,  or  rather  this  morning 
it  consisted,  of  one  hundred  pounds." 

"  That  is  certainly  odd,"  said  Challoner; 
"yes,  certainly  the  coincidence  is  strange.  I 
am  myself  reduced  to  the  same  margin." 

"  You  !  "  cried  Somerset.  "And  yet  Solo- 
mon in  all  his  glory " 

' '  Such  is  the  fact.  I  am,  dear  boy,  on  my  last 
legs,"  said  Challoner.  "  Besides  the  clothes  in 
which  you  see  me,  I  have  scarcely  a  decent 
trowser  in  my  wardrobe  ;  and  if  I  knew  how,  I 
would  this  instant  set  about  some  sort  of  work 
or  commerce.  With  a  hundred  pounds  for 
capital,  a  man  should  push  his  way." 

' '  It  may  be, ' '  returned  Somerset ;  ' '  but  what 


4  PROLOGUE. 

to  do  with  mine  is  more  than  I  can  fancy.  Mr. 
Godall,"  he  added,  addressing  the  salesman, 
"you  are  a  man  who  knows  the  world  :  what 
can  a  young  fellow  of  reasonable  education  do 
with  a  hundred  pounds  ? " 

"It  depends,"  replied  the  salesman,  with- 
drawing his  cheroot.  '"The  power  of  money 
is  an  article  of  faith  in  which  I  profess  myself  a 
skeptic.  A  hundred  pounds  will  with  difficulty 
support  you  for  a  year ;  with  somewhat  more 
difficulty  you  may  spend  it  in  a  night;  and  with- 
out any  difficulty  at  all  you  may  lose  it  in  five 
minutes  on  the  Stock  Exchange.  If  you  are  of 
that  stamp  of  man  that  rises,  a  penny  would  be 
as  useful ;  if  you  belong  to  those  that  fall,  a 
penny  would  be  no  more  useless.  When  I  was 
myself  thrown  unexpectedly  upon  the  world, 
it  was  my  fortune  to  possess  an  art :  I  knew  a 
good  cigar.  Do  you  know  nothing,  Mr.  Somer- 
set?" 

"Not  even  law,"  was  the  reply. 

"  The  answer  is  worthy  of  a  sage,"  returned 
Mr.  Godall.  "And  you,  sir,"  he  continued, 
turning  to  Challoner,  "as  the  friend  of  Mr. 
Somerset,  may  I  be  allowed  to  address  you  the 
same  question? " 

"Well,"  replied  Challoner,  "  I  play  a  fair 
hand  at  whist." 

"  How  many  persons  are  there  in  London," 
returned  the  salesman,    "who  have  two-and- 


PROLOGUE.  5 

thirty  teeth?  Believe  me,  young  gentleman, 
there  are  more  still  who  play  a  fair  hand  at 
whist.  Whist,  sir,  is  wide  as  the  world;  'tis 
an  accomplishment  like  breathing.  I  once 
knew  a  youth  who  announced,  that  he  was 
studying  to  be  Chancellor  of  England  ;  the  de- 
sign was  certainly  ambitious  ;  but  I  find  it  less 
excessive  than  that  of  the  man  who  aspires  to 
make  a  livelihood  by  whist." 

"Dear  me,"  said  Challoner,  "lam  afraid  I 
shall  have  to  fall  to  be  a  working  man." 

' '  Fall  to  be  a  working  man  % ' '  echoed  Mr. 
Godall.  ' £  Suppose  a  rural  dean  to  be  unfrocked, 
does  he  fall  to  be  a  major?  suppose  a  captain 
were  cashiered,  would  he  fal]  to  be  a  puisne 
judge  \  The  ignorance  of  your  middle  class 
surprises  me.  Outside  itself,  it  thinks  the 
world  to  lie  quite  ignorant  and  equal,  sunk  in 
a  common  degradation  ;  but  to  the  eye  of  the 
observer,  all  ranks  are  seen  to  stand  in  ordered 
hierarchies,  and  each  adorned  with  its  particu- 
lar aptitudes  and  knowledge.  By  the  defects  of 
your  education  you  are  more  disqualified  to  be 
a  working  man  than  to  be  the  ruler  of  an  empire. 
The  gulf,  sir,  is  below  ;  and  the  true  learned 
arts — those  which  alone  are  safe  from  the  com- 
petition of  insurgent  laymen — are  those  which 
give  his  title  to  the  artisan." 

"  This  is  a  very  pompous  fellow,"  said  Chal- 
loner in  the  ear  of  his  companion. 


6  PROLOGUE. 

"  He  is  immense,"  said  Somerset. 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  divan  opened,  and 
a  third  young  fellow  made  his  appearance,  and 
rather  bashfully  requested  some  tobacco.  He 
was  younger  than  the  others  ;  and,  in  a  some- 
what meaningless  and  altogether  English  way, 
he  was  a  handsome  lad.  When  he  had  been 
served,  and  had  lighted  his  pipe  and  taken  his 
place  upon  the  sofa,  he  recalled  himself  to  Chal- 
loner  by  the  name  of  Desborough. 

"  Desborough,  to  be  sure,"  cried  Challoner. 
"  Well,  Desborough,  and  what  do  you  do  %  " 

"The  fact  is,"  said  Desborough,  "that  I  am 
doing  nothing." 

"  A  private  fortune  possibly  % ' '  inquired  the 
other. 

"Well  no,"  replied  Desborough,  rather 
sulkily.  4t  The  fact  is  that  I  am  waiting  for 
something  to  turn  up." 

"All  in  the  same  boat!"  cried  Somerset. 
"And  have  you,  too,  one  hundred  pounds  % " 

"Worse  luck,"  said  Mr.  Desborough. 

"This  is  a  very  pathetic  sight,  Mr.  Godall," 
said  Somerset :   "Three  f utiles." 

"A  character  of  this  crowded  age,"  returned 
the  salesman. 

"Sir,"  said  Somerset,  "I  deny  that  the  age 
is  crowded  ;  I  will  admit  one  fact,  and  that  one 
fact  only :  that  I  am  futile,  that  he  is  futile, 
and  that  we  are  all  three  as  futile  as  the  devil. 


PROLOGUE.  7 

What  am  I  %  I  have  smattered  law,  smattered 
letters,  smattered  geography,  smattered  mathe- 
matics ;  I  have  even  a  working  knowledge  of 
judicial  astrology  ;  and  here  I  stand,  all  Lon- 
don roaring  by  at  the  street's  end,  as  impotent 
as  any  baby.  I  have  a  prodigious  contempt 
for  my  maternal  uncle  ;  but  without  him,  it  is 
idle  to  deny  it,  I  should  simply  resolve  into  my 
elements  like  an  unstable  mixture.  I  begin  to 
perceive  that  it  is  necessary  to  know  some  one 
thing  to  the  bottom— were  it  only  literature. 
And  yet,  sir,  the  man  of  the  world  is  a  great 
feature  of  this  age  ;  he  is  possessed  of  an 
extraordinary  mass  and  variety  of  knowl- 
edge ;  he  is  everywhere  at  home ;  he  has 
seen  life  in  all  its  phases  ;  and  it  is  impos- 
sible but  that  this  great  habit  of  existence 
should  bear  fruit.  I  count  myself  a  man  of 
the  world,  accomplished,  cap-a-pie.  So  do 
you,  Challoner.     And  you,  Mr.  Desborough?" 

"Oh,  yes,1'  returned  the  young  man. 

"Well,  then,  Mr.  Grodall,  here  we  stand, 
three  men  of  the  world,  without  a  trade  to  cover 
us,  but  planted  at  the  strategic  center  of  the 
universe  (for  so  you  will  allow  me  to  call  Ru- 
pert Street),  in  the  midst  of  the  chief  mass  of 
people,  and  within  ear-shot  of  the  most  contin- 
uous chink  of  money  on  the  surface  of  the 
globe.  Sir,  as  civilized  men,  what  do  we  do  1 
I  will  show  you.     You  take  in  a  paper  ? " 


8  PROLOGUE. 

"I  take,"  said  Mr.  Goclall,  solemnly,   "the 
best  paper  in  the  world,  the  Standard." 

"Good,"  resumed  Somerset.  "I  now  hold 
it  in  my  hand,  the  voice  of  the  world,  a  tele- 
phone repeating  all  men's  wants.  I  open  it, 
and  where  my  eye  first  falls — well,  no,  not  Mor- 
rison1 s  Pills— but  here,  sure  enough,  and  but  a 
little  above,  I  find  the  joint  that  I  was  seeking  ; 
here  is  the  weak  spot  in  the  armor  of  society. 
Here  is  a  want,  a  plaint,  an  offer  of  substantial 
gratitude:  '  Two  Hundred  Pounds  Reward.— 
The  above  reward  will  be  paid  to  any  person 
giving  information  as  to  the  identity  and 
whereabouts  of  a  man  observed  yesterday  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Green  Park.  He  was 
over  six  feet  in  height,  with  shoulders  dispro- 
portionately broad,  close  shaved,  with  black 
mustaches,  and  wearing  a  sealskin  great  coat.' 
There,  gentlemen,  our  fortune,  if  not  made,  is 
founded." 

"Do  you  then  propose,  dear  boy,  that  we 
should  turn  detectives  %  "  inquired  Challoner. 
"  Do  I  propose  it  %  No,  sir,"  cried  Somerset. 
"It  is  reason,  destiny,  the  plain  face  of  the 
world,  that  commands  and  imposes  it.  Here 
all  our  merits  tell ;  our  manners,  habit  of  the 
Avorld,  powers  of  conversation,  vast  stores  of 
unconnected  knowledge,  all  that  we  are  and 
have  builds  up  the  character  of  the  complete 
detective.  It  is,  in  short,  the  only  profession 
for  a  gentleman." 


\ 


PROLOGUE.  9 

"  The  proposition  is  perhaps  excessive,"  said 
Challoner  ;  "  for  hitherto  I  own  I  have  regarded 
it  as  of  all  dirty,  sneaking  and  ungentlemanly 
trades,  the  least  and  lowest." 

u  To  defend  society  ?"  asked  Somerset ;  "to 
stake  one' s  life  for  others  ?  to  deracinate 
occnlt  and  powerful  evil  \  I  appeal  to  Mr. 
Godall.  He,  at  least,  as  a  philosophic  looker-on 
at  life,  will  spit  upon  such  philistine  opinions. 
He  knows  that  the  policeman,  as  he  is  called 
upon  continually  to  face  greater  odds,  and  that 
both  worse  equipped  and  for  a  better  cause,  is 
in  form  and  essence  a  more  noble  hero  than  the 
soldier.  Do  you,  by  any  chance,  deceive  your- 
self, by  supposing  that  a  general  would  either 
ask  or  expect,  from  the  best  army  ever  mar- 
shaled, and  on  the  most  momentous  battle- 
field, the  conduct  of  a  common  constable  at 
PeekhamRye."1 

"  I  did  not  understand  we  were  to  join  the 
force,"  said  Challoner. 

1  Hereupon  the  Arabian  author  enters  on  one  of  his  di- 
gressions. Fearing,  apparently,  that  the  somewhat  eccen- 
tric views  of  Mr.  Somerset  should  throw  discredit  on  a  part 
of  truth,  he  calls  upon  the  English  People  to  remember 
with  more  gratitude  the  services  of  the  police ;  to  what 
unobserved  and  solitary  acts  of  heroism  they  are  called ; 
against  what  odds  of  numbers  and  of  arms,  and  for  how 
small  a  reward,  either  in  fame  or  money  ;  matter,  it .  has 
appeared  to  the  translators,  too  serious  for  this  place. 


io  PROLOGUE. 

"Nor  shall  we.  These  are  the  hands;  but 
here — here,  sir,  is  the  head,"  cried  Somerset. 
"  Enough  ;  it  is  decreed.  We  shall  hunt  down 
this  miscreant  in  the  sealskin  coat." 

"Suppose  that  we  agreed,"  retorted  Chal- 
loner,  "  you  have  no  plan,  no  knowledge  ;  you 
know  not  where  to  seek  for  a  beginning." 

"Challoner ! "  cried  Somerset,  "is  it  possi- 
ble that  you  hold  the  doctrine  of  Free  Will  % 
And  are  you  devoid  of  any  tincture  of  philoso- 
phy, that  you  should  harp  on  such  exploded 
fallacies  \  Chance,  the  blind  Madonna  of  the 
Pagan,  rules  this  terrestrial  bustle ;  and  in 
Chance  I  place  my  sole  reliance.  Chance  has 
brought  us  three  together  ;  when  we  next  sepa- 
rate and  go  forth  our  several  ways,  Chance  will 
continually  drag  before  our  careless  eyes  a 
thousand  eloquent  clues,  not  to  this  mystery 
only,  but  to  the  countless  mysteries  by  which 
we  live  surrounded.  Then  comes  the  part  of 
the  man  of  the  world,  of  the  detective  born  and 
bred.  This  clue,  which  the  whole  town  beholds 
without  comprehension,  swift  as  a  cat,  he  leaps 
upon  it,  makes  it  his,  follows  it  with  craft  and 
passion,  and  from  one  trifling  circumstance 
divines  a  world." 

"Just  so,"  said  Challoner;  "and  I  am 
delighted  that  you  should  recognize  these  vir- 
tues in  yourself.  But  in  the  meanwhile,  dear 
boy,  I  own  myself  incapable  of  joining.     I  was 


PROLOGUE.  II 

neither  born  nor  bred  as  a  detective,  but  as  a 
placable  and  very  thirsty  gentleman  ;  and,  for 
my  part,  I  begin  to  weary  for  a  drink.  As  for 
clues  and  adventures,  the  only  adventure  that 
is  ever  likely  to  occur  to  me  will  be  an  adven- 
ture with  a  bailiff." 

"  Now  there  is  the  fallacy,"  cried  Somerset. 
"  There  I  catch  the  secret  of  your  futility  in 
life.  The  world  teems  and  bubbles  with  adven- 
ture ;  it  besieges  you  along  the  street :  hands 
waving  out  of  windows,  swindlers  coming  up 
and  swearing  they  knew  you  when  you  were 
abroad,  affable  and  doubtful  people  of  all  sorts 
and  conditions  begging  and  truckling  for  your 
notice.  But  not  you  :  you  turn  away,  you  walk 
your  seedy  mill  round,  you  must  go  the  dullest 
way.  Now  here,  I  beg  of  you,  the  next  adven- 
ture that  offers  itself,  embrace  it  in  with  both 
your  arms  ;  whatever  it  looks,  grimy  or  roman- 
tic, grasp  it.  I  will  do  the  like  ;  the  devil  is  in 
it,  but  at  least  we  shall  have  fun  ;  and  each  in 
turn  we  shall  narrate  the  story  of  our  fortunes 
to  my  philosophic  friend  of  the  divan,  the  great 
Godall,  now  hearing  me  with  inward  joy. 
Come,  is  it  a  bargain  \  Will  you,  indeed,  both 
promise  to  welcome  every  chance  that  offers,  to 
plunge  boldly  into  every  opening,  and,  keeping 
the  eye  wary  and  the  head  composed,  to  study 
and  piece  together  all  that  happens?  Come, 
promise  :  let  me  open  to  you  the  doors  of  the 
great  profession  of  intrigue." 


12  THE  SQUIRE  OE  DAMES. 

"It  is  not  much  in  my  way,"  said  Challoner, 
"  but,  since  you  make  a  point  of  it,  amen." 

"  I  don't  mind  promising,"  said  Desborough, 
"but  nothing  will  happen  to  me." 

' '  0  faithless  ones  ! ' '  cried  Somerset.  ' '  But  at 
least  I  have  your  promises  ;  and  Godall,  I  per- 
ceive, is  transported  with  delight." 

"I  promise  myself  at  least  much  pleasure 
from  your  various  narratives,"  said  the  sales- 
man, with  the  customary  calm  polish  of  his 
manner. 

"  And  now,  gentlemen,"  concluded  Somerset, 
"let  us  separate.  I  hasten  to  put  myself 
in  fortune's  way.  Hark  how,  in  this  quiet  cor- 
ner, London  roars  like  the  noise  of  battle  ;  four 
million  destinies  are  here  concentered  ;  and  in 
the  strong  panoply  of  one  hundred  pounds, 
payable  to  the  bearer,  I  am  about  to  plunge  into 
that  web." 


CHALLONER 'S  ADVENTURE  :  THE  SQUIRE  OE 
DAMES. 

MR.  EDWARD  CHALLONER  had  set  up 
lodgings  in  the  suburb  of  Putney,  where 
he  enjoyed  a  parlor  and  bed-room  and  the  sin- 
cere esteem  of  the  peojile  of  the  house.  To  this 
remote  home  he  found  himself  at  a  very  early 
hour  in  the  morning  of  the  next  day,  condemned 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  ,         13 

to  set  forth  on  foot.  He  was  a  young  man  of 
portly  habit ;  no  lover  of  the  exercises  of  the 
body ;  bland,  sedentary,  patient  of  delay,  a 
prop  of  omnibuses.  In  happier  days  he  would 
have  chartered  a  cab  ;  but  these  luxuries  were 
now  denied  him  ;  and  with  what  courage  he 
could  muster  he  addressed  himself  to  walk. 

It  was  then  the  height  of  the  season  and  the 
summer;  the  weather  was  serene  and  cloudless; 
and  as  he  paced  under  the  blinded  houses  and 
along  the  vacant  streets,  the  chill  of  the  dawn 
had  fled,  and  some  of  the  warmth  and  all  the 
brightness  of  the  July  day  already  shone  upon, 
the  city.  He  walked  at  first  in  a  profound 
abstraction,  bitterly  reviewing  and  repenting 
his  performances  at  whist ;  but  as  he  advanced 
into  the  labyrinth  of  the  south-west,  his  eaj; 
was  gradually  mastered  by  the  silence.  Street 
after  street  looked  down  upon  his  solitary 
figure,  house  after  house  echoed  upon  his  pas- 
sage with  a  ghostly  jar,  shop  after  shop  dis^, 
played  its  shuttered  front  and  its  commercial 
legend  ;  and  meanwhile  he  steered  his  course, 
under  day's  effulgent  dome  and  through  this 
encampment  of  diurnal  sleej)ers,  lonely  as  a 
ship. 

"Here,"  he  reflected,  "  if  I  were  like  my 
scatter-brained  companion,  here  were  indeed 
the  scene  where  I  might  look  for  an  adventure. 
Here,  in  broad  day,  the  streets  are  secret  as  in 


i4  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

the  blackest  night  of  January,  and  in  the  midst 
of  some  four  million  sleepers,  solitary  as  the 
woods  of  Yucatan.  If  I  but  raise  my  voice  I 
could  summon  up  the  number  of  an  army,  and 
yet  the  grave  is  not  more  silent  than  this  city 
of  sleep." 

He  was  still  following  these  quaint  and  seri- 
ous musings  when  he  came  into  a  street  of  more 
mingled  ingredients  than  was  common  in  the 
quarter.  Here,  on  the  one  hand,  framed  in 
the  walls  and  the  green  tops  of  trees,  were 
several  of  those  discreet,  bijou  residences  on 
which  propriety  is  apt  to  look  askance.  Here, 
too,  were  many  of  the  brick-fronted  barracks 
of  the  poor  ;  a  plaster  cow,  perhaps,  serving  as 
ensign  to  a  dairy,  or  a  ticket  announcing  the 
business  of  the  mangier.  Before  one  such 
house,  that  stood  a  little  separate  among  walled 
gardens,  a  cat  was  playing  with  a  straw,  and 
Challoner  paused  a  moment,  looking  on  this 
sleek  and  solitary  creature,  who  seemed  an 
emblem  of  the  neighboring  peace.  With  the 
cessation  of  the  sound  of  his  own  steps  the 
silence  fell  dead  ;  the  house  stood  smokeless  : 
the  blinds  down,  the  whole  machinery  of  life 
arrested  ;  and  it  seemed  to  Challoner  that  he 
should  hear  the  breathing  of  the  sleepers. 

As  he  so  stood,  he  was  startled  by  a  dull  and 
jarring  detonation  from  within.  This  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  monstrous  hissing  and  simmering 


THE  SQUIRE  OE  DAMES.  15 

as  from  a  kettle  of  the  bigness  of  St.  Paul's  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  from  every  chink  of  door 
and  window  spirted  an  ill-smelling  vapor. 
The  cat  disappeared  with  a  cry.  Within  the^ 
lodging  house  feet  pounded  on  the  stairs  ;  the 
door  tlew  back  emitting  clouds  of  smoke  ;  and 
two  men  and  an  elegantly  dressed  young  lady 
tumbled  forth  into  the  street  and  fled  without 
a  word.  The  hissing  had  already  ceased,  the 
smoke  was  melting  in  the  air,  the  whole  event 
had  come  and  gone  as  in  a  dream,  and  still 
Challoner  was  rooted  to  the  spot.  At  last  his 
reason  and  his  fear  awoke  together,  and  with 
the  most  unwonted  energy  he  fell  to  running. 

Little  by  little  this  first  dash  relaxed,  and 
presently  he  had  resumed  his  sober  gait  and 
begun  to  piece  together,  out  of  the  confused 
report  of  his  senses,  some  theory  of  the  occur- 
rence. But  the  occasion  of  the  sounds  and 
stench  that  had  so  suddenly  assailed  him,  and 
the  strange  conjunction  of  fugitives  whom  he 
had  seen  to  issue  from  the  house,  were  myster- 
ies beyond  his  plummet.  With  an  obscure  awe 
he  considered  them  in  his  mind,  continuing, 
meanwhile,  to  thread  the  web  of  streets,  and 
once  more  alone  in- morning  sunshine. 

In  his  first  retreat  he  had  entirely  wandered; 
and  now,  steering  vaguely  west,  it  was  his  luck 
to  light  upon  an  unpretending  street,  which 
presently  widened  so  as  to  admit  a  strip  of  gar- 


1 6  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

dens  in  the  midst.  Here  was  quite  a  stir  of 
birds  ;  even  at  that  hour,  the  shadow  of  the 
leaves  was  grateful ;  instead  of  the  burned  at- 
mosphere of  cities,  there  was  something  brisk 
and  rural  in  the  air  ;  and  dial  loner  paced  for- 
ward, his  eyes  upon  the  pavement  and  his  mind 
running  upon  distant  scenes,  till  he  was  re- 
called, upon  a  sudden,  by  a  wall  that  blocked 
his  further  progress.  This  street,  whose  name 
I  have  forgotten,  is  no  thoroughfare. 

He  was  not  the  first  who  had  wandered  there 
that  morning  ;  for  as  he  raised  his  eyes  with  an 
agreeable  deliberation,  they  alighted  on  the 
figure  of  a  girl,  in  whom  he  was  struck  to 
recognize  the  third  of  the  incongruous  fugitives.* 
She  had  run  there,  seemingly,  blindfold  ;  the 
wall  had  checked  her  career,  and  being  entirely 
wearied,  she  had  sunk  upon  the  ground  beside 
the  garden  railings,  soiling  her  dress  among  the 
summer  dust.  Each  saw  the  other  in  the  same 
instant  of  time  ;  and  she,  with  one  wild  look, 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  began  to  hurry  from  the 
scene. 

Challoner  was  doubly  startled  to  meet  once 
more  the  heroine  of  his  adventure  and  to  ob- 
serve the  fear  with  which  she  shunned  him. 
Pity  and  alarm,  in  nearly  equal  forces,  con- 
tested the  possession  of  his  mind,  and  yet,  in 
spite  of  both,  he  saw  himself  condemned  to 
follow  in  the  lady's  wake.     He  did  so  gingerly, 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  1 7 

as  fearing  to  increase  her  terrors  ;  but  tread  as 
lightly  as  he  might  his  footfalls  eloquently 
echoed  in  the  empty  street.  Their  sound  ap- 
peared to  strike  in  her  some  strong  emotion, 
for  scarce  had  he  begun  to  follow  ere  she 
paused.  A  second  time  she  addressed  herself 
to  flight,  and  a  second  time  she  paused.  Then 
she  turned  about,  and  with  doubtful  steps  and 
the  most  attractive  appearance  of  timidity, 
drew  near  to  the  young  man.  He  on  his  side 
continued  to  advance  with  similar  signals  of 
distress  and  bashfulness.  At  length,  when 
they  were  but  some  steps  apart,  he  saw  her 
eyes  brim  over,  and  she  reached  out  both  her 
hands  in  eloquent  appeal. 

"  Are  you  an  English  gentleman  ? "  she  cried. 

The  unhappy  Challoner  regarded  her  with 
consternation.  He  was  the  spirit  of  fine  court- 
esy, and  would  have  blushed  to  fail  in  his  de- 
voirs to  any  lady ;  but,  in  the  other  scale,  he 
was  a  man  averse  from  amorous  adventures. 
He  looked  east  and  west,  but  the  houses  that 
looked  down  upon  this  interview  remained  in- 
exorably shut,  and  he  saw  himself,  though  in 
the  full  glare  of  the  day' s  eye,  cut  off  from  any 
human  intervention.  His  looks  returned  at  last 
upon  the  suppliant.  He  remarked  with  irrita- 
tion that  she  was  charming  both  in  face  and 
figure,  elegantly  dressed  and  gloved :  a  lady 
undeniable  ;  the  picture  of  distress  and  inno- 


1 8  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

cence  ;  weeping  and  lost  in  the  city  of  diurnal 
sleep. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  I  protest  you  have  no 
cause  to  fear  intrusion,  and  if  I  have  appeared 
to  follow  you,  the  fault  is  in  this  street,  which 
has  deceived  us  both." 

An  unmistakable  relief  appeared  upon  the 
lady's  face.  "  I  might  have  guessed  it !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "Thank  you  a  thousand  times! 
But  at  this  hour,  in  this  appalling  silence,  and 
among  all  these  staring  windows,  I  am  lost  in 
terrors — oh,  lost  in  them  !  "  she  cried,  her  face 
blanching  at  the  words.  ' '  I  beg  you  to  lend 
me  your  arm,"  she  added  with  the  loveliest, 
suppliant  inflection.  "I  dare  not  go  alone; 
my  nerve  is  gone — I  had  a  shock,  oh,  what  a 
shock  !     I  beg  of  you  to  be  my  escort." 

"My  dear  madam,"  responded  Challoner, 
heavily,  "  my  arm  is  at  your  service." 

She  took  it  and  clung  to  it  for  a  moment, 
struggling  with  her  sobs,  and  the  next,  with 
feverish  hurry,  began  to  lead  him  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  city.  One  thing  was  plain,  among 
so  much  that  was  obscure  :  it  was  plain  her 
fears  were  genuine.  Still,  as  she  went,  she 
spied  around  as  if  for  dangers,  and  now  she 
would  shiver  like  a  person  in  a  chill  and  now 
clntch  his  arm  in  hers.  To  Challoner  her  ter- 
ror was  at  once  repugnant  and  infectious ;  it 
gained  and  mastered,  while  it  still  offended 


THE  SQUIRE  OE  DAMES.  19 

him,  and  lie  wailed  in  spirit  and  longed  for  re- 
lease. 

"  Madam,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  am,  of  course, 
charmed  to  be  of  use  to  any  ]ady,  but  I  confess 
I  was  bound  in  a  direction  opposite  to  that  you 
follow,  and  a  word  of  explanation " 

"Hush  !"  she  sobbed,  "  not  here — not  here." 

The  blood  of  Challoner  ran  cold.  He  might 
have  thought  the  lady  mad,  but  his  memory 
was  charged  with  more  perilous  stuff,  and  in 
view  of  the  detonation,  the  smoke  and  the  flight 
of  the  ill  assorted  trio,  his  mind  was  lost  among 
mysteries.  So  they  continued  to  thread  the 
maze  of  streets  in  silence  with  the  sjoeed  of  a 
guilty  flight,  and  both  thrilling  with  incom- 
municable terrors.  In  time,  however,  and  above 
all  by  their  quick  x^ace  of  walking,  the  pair 
began  to  rise  to  firmer  spirits  ;  the  lady  ceased 
to  peer  about  the  corners  ;  and  Challoner,  em- 
boldened by  the  resonant  tread  and  distant 
figure  of  a  constable,  returned  to  the  charge 
with  more  of  spirit  and  directness. 

u  I  thought,"  said  he,  in  the  tone  of  conver- 
sation, "  that  I  had  indistinctly  perceived  you 
leaving  a  villa  in  the  company  of  two  gentle- 
men." 

"  Oh  !  "  she'  said,  "you  need  not  fear  to 
wound  me  by  the  truth.  You  saw  me  flee  from 
a  common  lodging-house,  and  my  companions 
were  not  gentlemen.  In  such  a  case,  the  best 
of  compliments  is  to  be  frank." 


20  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

"  I  thought,"  resumed  Challoner,  encouraged 
as  much  as  he  was  surprised  by  the  spirit 
of  her  reply,  "to  have  perceived,  besides,  a 
certain  odor.  A  noise,  too — I  do  not  know  to 
what  I  should  compare  it " 

"  Silence  !  "  she  cried.  "You  do  not  know 
the  danger  you  invoke.  Wait,  only  wait ;  and  as 
soon  as  we  have  left  those  streets  and  got  beyond 
the  reach  of  listeners,  all  shall  be  explained. 
Meanwhile,  avoid  the  topic.  What  a  sight  is 
this  sleeping  city  !  "  she  exclaimed  ;  and  then, 
with  a  most  thrilling  voice,  "  *  Dear  God,'  she 
quoted,  "  'the  very  houses  seem  asleep.  And 
all  that  mighty  heart  is  lying  still.'  " 

"  I  perceive,  madam,"  said  he,  "you  are  a 
reader." 

"I  am  more  than  that,"  she  answered,  with 
a  sigh.  ' '  I  am  a  girl  condemned  to  thoughts 
beyond  her  age  ;  and  so  untoward  is  my  fate, 
that  this  walk  upon  the  arm  of  a  stranger  is  like 
an  interlude  of  peace." 

They  had  come  by  this  time  to  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Victoria  Station  ;  and  here,  at  a 
street  corner,  the  young  lady  paused,  withdrew 
her  arm  from  Challoner' s  and  looked  up  and 
down  as  though  in  pain  or  indecision.  Then, 
with  a  lovely  change  of  countenance,  and  lay- 
ing her  gloved  hand  upon  his  arm  : 

"What  you  already  think  of  me,"  she  said, 
"  I  tremble  to  conceive  ;    yet  I  must  here  con- 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  21 

demn  myself  still  further.  Here  I  must  leave 
you,  and  here  I  beseech  you  to  wait  for  my 
return.  Do  not  attempt  to  follow  me  or  spy 
upon  my  actions.  Suspend  yet  awhile  your 
judgment  of  a  girl  as  innocent  as  your  own  sis- 
ter ;  and  do  not  above  all,  desert  me.  Stranger  as 
you  are,  I  have  none  else  to  look  to.  You  see  me 
in  sorrow  and  great  fear  ;  you  are  a  gentleman, 
courteous  and  kind  ;  and  when  I  beg  for  a  few 
minutes'  patience,  I  make  sure  beforehand  you 
will  not  deny  me." 

Challoner  grudgingly  promised;  and  the 
young  lady,  with  a  grateful  eye-shot,  vanished 
round  the  corner.  But  the  force  of  her  appeal 
had  been  a  little  blunted  ;  for  the  young  man 
was  not  only  destitute  of  sisters,  but  of  any 
female  relative  nearer  than  a  great-aunt  in 
Wales.  Now  he  was  alone  ;  besides,  the  spell 
that  he  had  hitherto  obeyed  began  to  weaken  ; 
he  considered  his  behavior  with  a  sneer  ;  and 
plucking  up  the  spirit  of  revolt,  he  started  in 
pursuit.  The  reader,  if  he  has  ever  plied  the 
fascinating  trade  of  the  noctambulist,  will  not 
be  unaware  that,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
great  railway  centers,  certain  early  taverns  in- 
augurate the  business  of  the  day.  It  was  into 
one  of  these  that  Challoner,  coming  round  the 
corner  of  the  block,  beheld  his  charming  com- 
panion disappear.  To  say  he  was  surprised 
were  inexact,  for  he  had  long  since  left  that 


22  77//-;  SQUIRE  OF  DAISIES. 

sentiment  behind  him.  Acute  disgust  and  dis- 
appointment seized  upon  his  soul  ;  and  with 
silent  oaths,  he  damned  this  commonplace 
enchantress.  She  had  scarce  been  gone  a 
second,  ere  the  swing-doors  reopened,  and  she 
appeared  again  in  company  with  a  young  man 
of  mean  and  slouching  attire.  For  some  five 
or  six  exchanges  they  conversed  together  with 
an  animated  air  :  then  the  fellow  shouldered 
again  into  the  tap ;  and  the  young  lady,  with 
something  swifter  than  a  walk,  retraced  her 
steps  towards  Challoner.  He  saw  her  coming, 
a  miracle  of  grace  ;  her  ankle,  as  she  hurried, 
flashing  from  her  dress  ;  her  movements  elo- 
quent of  speed  and  youth  ;  and  though  he  still 
entertained  some  thoughts  of  flight,  they  grew 
miserably  fainter  as  the  distance  lessened. 
Against  mere  beauty  he  was  proof  :  it  was  her 
unmistakable  gentility  that  now  robbed  him  of 
the  courage  of  his  cowardice.  With  a  proved 
adventuress  he  had  acted  strictly  on  his  right ; 
with  one  who,  in  spite  of  all,  he  could  not  quite 
deny  to  be  a  lady,  he  found  himself  disarmed. 
At  the  very  corner  from  whence  he  had  spied 
upon  her  enterview,  she  came  upon  him,  still 
transfixed,  and — "Ah!"  she  cried,  with  a 
bright  flush  of  color.     "  Ah  !     Ungenerous  !  " 

The  sharpness  of  the  attack  somewhat  re- 
stored the  Squire  of  Dames  to  the  possession  of 
himself. 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  23 

"Madam,"  lie  returned,  with  a  fair  show  of 
stoutness,  "I  do  not  think  that  hitherto  you 
can  complain  of  any  lack  of  generosity  ;  I  have 
suffered  myself  to  be  led  over  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  metropolis  ;  and  if  I  now  request 
you  to  discharge  me  of  my  office  of  protector, 
you  have  friends  at  hand  who  will  be  glad  of 
the  succession." 

She  stood  a  moment  dumb. 

"It  is  well,"  she  said.  "Go!  go,  and  may 
God  help  me  !  You  have  seen  me — me,  an  inno- 
cent girl !  fleeing  from  a  dire  catastrophe  and 
haunted  by  sinister  men  ;  and  neither  pity, 
curiosity,  nor  honor  move  you  to  await  my 
explanation  or  to  help  me  in  my  distress.  Go  !" 
she  repeated.  "  I  am  lost  indeed."  And  with 
a  passionate  gesture  she  turned  and  fled  along 
the  street. 

Challoner  observed  her  retreat  and  disappear, 
an  almost  intolerable  sense  of  guilt  contending 
with  the  profound  sense  that  he  was  being 
gulled.  She  was  no  sooner  gone  than  the  first 
of  these  feelings  took  the  upper  hand  ;  he  felt, 
if  he  had  done  her  less  than  justice,  that  his 
conduct  was  a  perfect  model  of  the  ungracious  ; 
the  cultured  tone  of  her  voice,  her  choice  of 
language,  and  the  elegant  decorum  of  her  move- 
ments cried  out  aloud  against  a  harsh  construc- 
tion ;  and  between  penitence  and  curiosity  he 
began  slowly  to  follow  in  her  wake.      At  the 


24  ThE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

corner  lie  had  her  once  more  full  in  view.  Her 
speed  was  failing  like  a  stricken  bird's.  Even 
as  he  looked,  she  threw  her  arm  out  gropingly, 
and  fell  and  leaned  against  the  wall.  At  the 
spectacle,  Challoner's  fortitude  gave  way.  In 
a  few  strides  he  overtook  her  and,  for  the  first 
time  removing  his  hat,  assured  her  in  the  most 
moving  terms  of  his  entire  respect  and  firm 
desire  to  help  her.  He  spoke  at  first  unheeded; 
but  gradually  it  appeared  that  she  began  to 
comprehend  his  words  ;  she  moved  a  little,  and 
drew  herself  upright ;  and  finally,  as  with  a 
sudden  movement  of  forgiveness,  turned  on  the 
young  man  a  countenance  in  which  reproach 
and  gratitude  were  mingled.  "Ah,  madam,'' 
he  cried,  "use  me  as  you  will!"  And  once 
more,  but  now  with  a  great  air  of  deference,  he 
offered  her  the  conduct  of  his  arm.  She  took 
it  with  a  sigh  that  struck  him  to  the  heart ; 
and  they  began  once  more  to  trace  the  deserted 
streets.  But  now  her  steps,  as  though  exhausted 
by  emotion,  began  to  linger  on  the  way  ;  she 
leaned  the  more  heavily  upon  his  arm  ;  and  he, 
like  the  parent  bird,  stooped  fondly  above  his 
drooping  convoy.  Her  physical  distress  was 
not  accompanied  by  any  failing  of  her  spirits  ; 
and  hearing  her  strike  so  soon  into  a  playful 
and  charming  vein  of  talk,  Challoner  could  not 
sufficiently  admire  the  elasticity  of  his  com- 
panion's nature.      "Let  me  forget,"  she  had 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  2$ 

said,  ' '  for  one  half  hour,  let  me  forget ; ' '  and 
sure  enough,  with  the  very  word,  her  sorrows 
appeared  to  be  forgotten.  Before  every  house 
she  paused,  invented  a  name  for  the  proprietor, 
and  sketched  his  character  :  here  lived  the  old 
general  whom  she  was  to  marry  on  the  fifth  of 
the  next  month,  there  was  the  mansion  of  the 
rich  widow  who  had  set  her  heart  on  Challoner ; 
and  though  she  still  hung  wearily  on  the  young 
man's  arm,  her  laughter  sounded  low  and 
pleasant  in  his  ears.  ' '  Ah, ' '  she  sighed,  by  way 
of  commentary,  ' '  in  such  a  life  as  mine  I  must 
seize  tight  hold  of  any  happiness  that  I  can 
find." 

When  they  arrived,  in  this  leisurely  manner, 
at  the  head  of  Grosvenor  Place,  the  gates  of 
the  park  were  opening  and  the  bedraggled 
company  of  night-walkers  were  being  at  last 
admitted  into  that  paradise  of  lawns.  Challoner 
and  his  companion  followed  the  movement,  and 
walked  for  awhile  in  silence  in  that  tatterde- 
malion crowd  ;  but  as  one  after  another,  weary 
with  the  night' s  patrolling  of  the  city  pavement, 
sank  upon  the  benches  or  wandered  into  sepa- 
rate paths,  the  vast  extent  of  the  park  had  soon 
utterly  swallowed  up  the  last  of  these  intruders; 
and  the  pair  proceeded  on  their  way  alone  in 
the  grateful  quiet  of  the  morning. 

Presently  they  came  in  sight  of  a  bench, 
standing  very  open  on  a  mound  of  turf.  The 
young  lady  looked  about  her  with  relief. 


26  THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL. 

1 '  Here, ' '  she  said,  ' '  here  at  last  we  are  secure 
from  listeners.  Here,  then,  you  shall  learn  and 
judge  my  history.  I  could  not  bear  that  we 
should  part,  and  that  you  should  still  suppose 
your  kindness  squandered  upon  one  who  was 
unworthy. ' ' 

Thereupon  she  sat  down  upon  the  bench,  and 
motioning  Challoner  to  take  a  j:>lace  imme- 
diately beside  her,  began  in  the  following  words, 
and  with  the  greatest  appearance  of  enjoyment, 
to  narrate  the  story  of  her  life. 


STORY  OF  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

MY  father  was  a  native  of  England,  son  of  a 
cadet  of  a  great,  ancient  but  untitled 
family  ;  and  by  some  event,  fault,  or  misfor- 
tune he  was  driven  to  flee  from  the  land  of  his 
birth  and  to  lay  aside  the  name  of  his  ancestors. 
He  sought  the  States  ;  and  instead  of  lingering 
in  effeminate  cities,  pushed  at  once  into  the  far 
west  with  an  exploring  party  of  frontiersmen. 
He  was  no  ordinary  traveler  ;  for  he  was  not 
only  brave  and  impetuous  by  character,  but 
learned  in  many  sciences,  and  above  all  in 
botany,  which  he  particularly  loved.  Thus  it 
fell  that,  before  many  months,  Fremont  him- 
self, the  nominal  leader  of  the  troop,  courted 
and  bowed  to  his  opinion- 


THE  DESTRO  YING  A NGEL.  2 7 

They  had  pushed,  as  I  have  said,  into  the  still 
unknown  regions  of  the  west.  For  some  time 
they  followed  the  track  of  Mormon  caravans, 
guiding  themselves  in  that  vast  and  melancholy 
desert  by  the  skeletons  of  men  and  animals. 
Then  they  inclined  their  route  a  little  to  the 
north  and,  losing  even  these  dire  memorials, 
came  into  a  country  of  forbidding  stillness.  I 
have  often  Heard  my  father  dwell  upon  the 
features  of  that  ride  :  rock,  cliff,  and  barren 
moor  alternated  ;  the  streams  were  very  far 
between  ;  and  neither  beast  nor  bird  disturbed 
the  solitude.  On  the  fortieth  day  they  had 
already  run  so  short  of  food  that  it  was  judged 
advisable  to  call  a  halt  and  scatter  upon  all 
sides  to  hunt.  A  great  fire  was  built,  that  its 
smoke  might  serve  to  rally  them  ;  and  each 
man  of  the  party  mounted  and  struck  off  at  a 
venture  into  the  surrounding  desert. 

My  father  rode  for  many  hours  with  a  steep 
range  of  cliffs  upon  the  one  hand,  very  black 
and  horrible  ;  and  upon  the  other  an  unwatered 
vale  dotted  with  bowlders  like  the  site  of  some 
subverted  city.  At  length  he  found  the  slot  of 
a  great  animal,  and  from  the  claw-marks  and 
the  hair  among  the  brush,  judged  that  he  was 
on  the  track  of  a  cinnamon  bear  of  most  unusual 
size.  He  quickened  the  pace  of  his  steed,  and 
still  following  the  quarry,  came  at  last  to  the 
division  of  two  watersheds.     On  the  far  side  the 


28  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

country  was  exceedingly  intricate  and  difficult, 
heaped  with  bowlders,  and  dotted  here  and 
there  with  a  few  pines,  which  seemed  to  indi- 
cate the  neighborhood  of  water.  Here,  then, 
he  picketed  his  horse,  and  relying  on  his  trusty 
rifle,  advanced  alone  into  that  wilderness. 

Presently,  in  the  great  silence  that  reigned, 
he  was  aware  of  the  sound  of  running  water  to 
his  right ;  and  leaning  in  that  direction,  was 
rewarded  by  a  scene  of  natural  wonder  and 
human  pathos  strangely  intermixed.  The 
stream  ran  at  the  bottom  of  a  narrow  and  wind- 
ing passage,  whose  wall-like  sides  of  rock  were 
sometimes  for  miles  together  unscalable  by  man. 
The  water,  when  the  stream  was  swelled  with 
rains,  must  have  filled  it  from  side  to  side  ;  the 
sun's  rays  only  plumbed  it  in  the  hour  of  noon  ; 
the  wind,  in  that  narrow  and  damp  funnel,  blew 
tempestuously.  And  yet,  in  the  bottom  of  this 
den,  immediately  below  my  father's  eyes  as  he 
leaned  over  the  margin  of  the  cliff,  a  party  of 
some  half  a  hundred  men,  women  and  children 
lay  scattered  uneasily  among  the  rocks.  They 
lay  some  upon  their  backs,  some  prone,  and 
not  one  stirring ;  their  upturned  faces  seemed 
all  of  an  extraordinary  paleness  and  emaciation  ; 
and  from  time  to  time,  above  the  washing  of  the 
stream,  a  faint  sound  of  moaning  mounted  to 
my  father's  ears. 

While  he  thus  looked,  an  old  man  got  stag- 


rf HE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  21, 

gering  to  his  feet,  unwound  his  blanket,  and 
laid  it,  with  great  gentleness,  on  a  young  girl 
who  sat  hard  by  propped  against  a  rock.  The 
girl  did  not  seem  to  be  conscious  of  the  act ; 
and  the  old  man,  after  having  looked  upon  her 
with  the  most  engaging  pity,  returned  to  his 
former  bed  and  lay  down  again  uncovered  on 
the  turf.  But  the  scene  had  not  passed  with- 
out observation  even  in  that  starving  camp. 
From  the  very  outskirts  of  the  party,  a  man 
with  a  white  beard  and  seemingly  of  venerable 
years,  rose  upon  his  knees  and  came  crawling 
stealthily  among  the  sleepers  toward  the  girl ; 
and  judge  of  my  father's  indignation,  when  he 
beheld  this  cowardly  miscreant  strip  from  her 
both  the  coverings  and  return  with  them  to  his 
original  position.  Here  he  lay  down  for  a  while 
below  his  spoils,  and,  as  my  father  imagined, 
feigned  to  be  asleep  ;  but  presently  he  had 
raised  himself  again  upon  one  elbow,  looked 
with  sharp  scrutiny  at  his  companions,  and 
then  swiftly  carried  his  hand  into  his  bosom 
and  thence  to  his  mouth.  By  the  movement  of 
his  jaws  he  must  be  eating  ;  in  that  camp  of 
famine  he  had  reserved  a  store  of  nourishment ; 
and  while  his  companions  lay  in  the  stupor  of 
approaching  death,  secretly  restored  his 
powers. 

My  father  was  so  incensed  at  what  he  saw 
that  he  raised  his  rifle  ;  and  but  for  an  accident, 


30  THE  DESTROYING  AXGEL. 

he  has  often  declared,  he  would 

fellow  dead  upon  >t.     How    different 

would  then  have  been  my  history  !    Bnt  it 
not  to  be:  even  :rel.  his 

lighted  on  th  Lt  crawled  along  ale   s 

some  way  below  him :  and  ceding  to  the 
hunter's  instinct,  it  was  at  the  brute,  not  at  the 
man.  that  he  di  The  bear 

leaped  and  fell  inn  I  of  the  river  ;  the 

canyon  re-echoed  the  report  ;  and  in  a  moment 
the  camp  was  afoot.  With  cries  that  were 
scarce  human,  stumbling,  falling  and  throwing 
each  other  down.  th<        s  -  . 

upon  the  quarry  :  and  1  iher.  clinib- 

Lownby  the         -  .  had  t:  each  the 

I  of  the  stream,  many  were  aire         -     :sfy- 
their  hunger  on  the  -...  and  a  lire 

I  >uilt  by  the  more  dainty. 
His  arrival  was  for  some  time  unremarfi 
He  stood  in  the  mi  -   and 

clay-faced  marionetl  s;  he  was  sun  Led  by 
their  cries  :  but  their  whole  soul  " 

e   who  v 
move.  lay.  half- turned  over,  with  I 
I  upon 

.  the 
thick  of  this  hubbul  1  with  a 

ire  to  weep.     A  touch  upon 
strained  him.     Turning  about  he  found  him- 
self face  to  face  with  the  old  man  he 


THE  DESTRO  ) TING  A XGEL.  3 1 

nearly  killed  ;  and  yet,  at  the  second  glance, 
recognized  him  for  no  old  man  at  all,  but  one 
in  the  full  strength  of  his  years,  and  of  a 
strong,  speaking  and  intellectual  countenance, 
stigmatized  by  weariness  and  famine.  He 
beckoned  my  father  near  the  cliff,  and  there,  in 
the  most  private  whisper,  begged  for  brandy. 
My  father  looked  at  him  with  scorn  :  ' ;  You 
remind  me,*'  he  said,  "of  a  neglected  duty. 
Here  is  my  flask  ;  it  contains  enough,  I  trust, 
to  revive  the  women  of  your  party  ;  and  I  will 
begin  with  her  whom  I  saw  you  robbing  of  her 
blankets."  And  with  that,  not  heeding  his 
appeals,  my  father  turned  his  back  upon  the 
egoist. 

The  girl  still  lay  reclined  against  the  rock  ; 
she  lay  too  far  sunk  in  the  first  stage  of  death 
to  have  observed  the  bustle  round  her  couch  ; 
but  when  my  father  had  raised  her  head,  put 
the  flask  to  her  lips,  and  forced  or  aided  her  to 
swallow  some  drops  of  the  restorative,  she 
opened  her  languid  eyes  and  smiled  upon  him 
faintly.  Never  was  there  a  smile  of  more 
touching  sweetness  ;  never  were  eyes  more 
deeply  violet,  more  honestly  eloquent  of  the 
soul !  I  speak  with  knowledge,  for  these  were 
the  same  eyes  that  smiled  upon  me  in  the 
cradle.  From  her  who  was  10  be  his  wife,  my 
father,  still  jealously  watched  and  followed  by 
the  man  with  the  gray  beard,  carried  his  a  (ten- 


32  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

rions  to  nil  the  women  of  the  party,  and  gave 
the  last  (trainings  of  his  flask  to  those  among 
the  men  who  seemed  in  the  most  need. 

"Is  there  none  left?  not  a  drop  for  me?" 
said  the  man  with  the  heard. 

"Not  one  drop,"  replied  my  father;  "and 
if  yon  find  yourself  in  want,  let  me  counsel 
you  to  put  your  hand  into  the  pocket  of  your 
coat." 

"  Ah ! "  cried  the  other,  "  you  misjudge  me. 
You  think  me  one  who  clings  to  life  for  selfish 
and  commonplace  considerations.  But  let  me 
It'll  you,  that  were  all  this  caravan  to  perish, 
the  world  would  but  be  lightened  of  a  weight. 
These  are  but  human  insects,  pullulating,  thick 
as  may-flies,  in  the  slums  of  European  cities, 
whom  T  myself  have  plucked  from  degradation 
and  misery,  from  the  dung-heap  and  gin-pal- 
ace door.  And  you  compare  their  lives  with 
mine  !  " 

"You  are  then  a  Mormon  missionary?" 
asked  my  father. 

"Oh  !  "  cried  the  man,  with  a  strange  smile, 
"  a  Mormon  missionary  if  you  will!  I  value 
not  the  title.  Were  1  no  more  than  that,  I 
could  have  died  withont  a  murmur.  But  with 
my  life  as  a  physician  is  bound  up  the  knowl- 
edge of  great  secrets  and  the  future  of  man. 
This  it  was,  when  we  missed  the  caravan,  tried 
for  a  short  cut  and  wandered  to  this  desolate 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  33 

ravine,  that  ate  into  my  sonl  and,  in  five  days, 
lias  changed  my  beard  from  ebony  to  silver." 

"And  you  are  a  physician, "  mused  my 
father,  looking  on  his  face,  ' '  bound  by  oath  to 
succor  man  in  his  distresses." 

"  Sir,"  returned  the  Mormon,  "my  name  is 
Grierson  :  you  will  hear  that  name  again  ;  and 
you  will  then  understand  that  my  duty  was  not 
to  this  caravan  of  paupers,  but  to  mankind  at 
large." 

My  father  turned  to  the  remainder  of  the 
party,  who  were  now  sufficiently  revived  to 
hear  ;  told  them  that  he  would  set  off  at  once 
to  bring  help  from  his  own  party  ;  "  and,"  he 
added,  "if  you  be  again  reduced  to  such  ex- 
tremities, look  round  you,  and  you  will  see  the 
earth  strewn  with  assistance.  Here,  for 
instance,  growing  on  the  under-side  of  fissures 
in  this  cliff,  you  will  perceive  a  yellow  moss. 
Trust  me,  it  is  both  edible  and  excellent." 

"Ha!"  said  Doctor  Grierson,  "you  know 
botany  ! ' ' 

"Not  I  alone,"  returned  my  father,  lower- 
ing his  voice  ;  ' '  for  see  where  these  have  been 
scraped  away.  Am  I  right  %  Was  that  your 
secret  store  % " 

My  father' s  comrades,  he  found,  when  he 
returned  to  the  signal-fire,  had  made  a  good 
day's  hunting.  They  were  thus  the  more 
easily  persuaded  to  extend  assistance  to  the 


34  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

Mormon  caravan  ;  and  the  next  day  beheld 
both  parties  on  the  march  for  the  frontiers  of 
Utah.  The  distance  to  be  traversed  was  not 
great ;  but  the  nature  of  the  country  and  the 
difficulty  of  procuring  food,  extended  the  time 
to  nearly  three  weeks  ;  and  my  father  had  thus 
ample  leisure  to  know  and  appreciate  the  girl 
whom  he  had  succored.  I  will  call  my  mother 
Lucy.  Her  family  name  I  am  not  at  liberty  to 
mention  ;  it  is  one  you  would  know  well.  By 
what  series  of  undeserved  calamities  this  inno- 
cent flower  of  maidenhood,  lovely,  refined  by 
education,  ennobled  by  the  finest  taste,  was 
thus  cast  among  the  horrors  of  a  Mormon  cara- 
van, I  must  not  stay  to  tell  you.  Let  it  suffice, 
that  even  in  these  untoward  circumstances,  she 
found  a  heart  worthy  of  her  own.  The  ardor 
of  attachment  which  united  my  father  and 
mother  was  perhaps  partly  due  to  the  strange 
manner  of  their  meeting  ;  it  knew,  at  least,  no 
bounds  either  divine  or  human  ;  my  father,  for 
her  sake,  determined  to  renounce  his  ambitions 
and  abjure  his  faith  ;  and  a  week  had  not  yet 
passed  upon  the  march  before  he  had  resigned 
from  his  party,  accepted  the  Mormon  doctrine, 
and  received  the  promise  of  my  mother's  hand 
on  the  arrival  of  the  party  at  Salt  Lake. 

The  marriage  took  place,  and  I  was  its  only 
offspring.  My  father  prospered  exceedingly  in 
his  affairs,  remained  faithful  to  my  mother  ; 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  35 

and  though  you  may  wonder  to  hear  it,  I  be- 
lieve there  were  few  happier  homes  in  any 
country  than  that  in  which  I  saw  the  light  and 
grew  to  girlhood.  We  were,  indeed,  and  in 
spite  of  all  our  wealth,  avoided  as  heretics  and 
half -believers  by  the  more  precise  and  pious  of 
the  faithful :  Young  himself,  that  formidable 
tyrant,  was  known  to  look  askance  upon  my 
father' s  riches  ;  but  of  this  I  had  no  guess.  I 
dwelt,  indeed,  under  the  Mormon  system,  with 
perfect  innocence  and  faith.  Some  of  our 
friends  had  many  wives  ;  but  such  was  the  cus- 
tom ;  and  why  should  it  surprise  me  more  than 
marriage  itself  ?  From  time  to  time  one  of  our 
rich  acquaintances  would  disappear,  his  family 
be  broken  up,  his  wives  and  houses  shared  among 
the  elders  of  the  church,  and  his  memory  only 
recalled  with  bated  breath  and  dreadful  head- 
shakings.  When  I  had  been  very  still  and  my 
presence  perhaps  was  forgotten,  some  such 
topic  would  arise  among  my  elders  by  the 
evening  fire  ;  I  would  see  them  draw  the  closer 
together  and  look  behind  them  with  scared 
eyes  ;  and  I  might  gather  from  their  whisper- 
ings how  some  one,  rich,  honored,  healthy  and 
in  the  prime  of  his  days,  some  one,  perhaps, 
who  had  taken  me  on  his  knees  a  week  before, 
had  in  one  hour  been  spirited  from  home  and 
family,  and  vanished  like  an  image  from  a 
mirror,  leaving  not  a  print  behind.     It  was  ter- 


36  THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL, 

rible,  indeed ;  but  so  was  death,  the  universal 
law.  And  even  if  the  talk  should  wax  still 
bolder,  full  of  ominous  silences  and  nods,  find 
I  should  hear  named  in  a  whisper  the  Destroy- 
ing Angels,  how  was  a  child  to  understand 
these  mysteries?  I  heard  of  a  Destroying 
Angel  as  some  more  happy  child  might  hear  in 
England  of  a  bishop  or  a  rural  dean,  with  vague 
respect  and  without  the  wish  for  further  infor- 
mation. Life  anywhere,  in  society  as  in  nature, 
rests  upon  dread  foundations  ;  I  beheld  safe 
roads,  a  garden  blooming  in  the  desert,  pious 
people  crowding  to  worship  ;  I  was  aware  of 
my  parents'  tenderness  and  all  the  harmless 
luxuries  of  my  existence  ;  and  why  should  I  pry 
beneath  this  honest  seeming  surface  for  the 
mysteries  on  which  it  stood  % 

We  dwelt  originally  in  the  city ;  but  at  an 
early  date  we  moved  to  a  beautiful  house  in  a 
green  dingle,  musical  with  splashing  water, 
and  surrounded  on  almost  every  side  by  twenty 
miles  of  poisonous  and  rocky  desert.  The  city 
was  thirty  miles  away  ;  there  was  but  one  road, 
which  went  no  further  than  my  fathers  door  ; 
the  rest  were  bridle-tracks  impassable  in  winter; 
and  we  thus  dwelt  in  a  solitude  inconceivable 
to  the  European.  Our  only  neighbor  was  Dr. 
Grierson.  To  my  young  eyes,  after  the  hair- 
oiled,  chin-bearded  elders  of  the  city,  and  the 
ill-favored  and  mentally    stunted  women    of 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  37 

their  harems,  there  was  something  agreeable  in 
the  correct  manner,  the  tine  bearing,  the  thin 
white  hair  and  beard,  and  the  piercing  looks  of 
the  old  doctor.  Yet,  though  he  was  almost 
our  only  visitor,  I  never  wholly  overcame  a 
sense  of  fear  in  his  presence  ;  and  this  disquie- 
tude was  rather  fed  by  the  awful  solitude  in 
which  he  lived  and  the  obscurity  that  hung 
about  his  occupations.  His  house  was  but  a 
mile  or  two  from  ours,  but  very  differently 
placed.  It  stood  overlooking  the  road  on  the 
summit  of  a  steep  slope,  and  planted  close 
against  a  range  of  overhanging  bluffs.  Kature? 
you  would  say,  had  here  desired  to  imitate  the 
works  of  man  ;  for  the  slope  was  even  like  the 
glacis  of  a  fort,  and  the  cliffs  of  a  constant 
height,  like  the  ramparts  of  a  city.  Kot  even 
spring  could  change  one  feature  of  that  deso- 
late scene;  and  the  windows  looked  down  across 
a  plain,  snowy  with  alkali,  to  ranges  of  cold 
stone  sierras  on  the  north.  Twice  or  thrice  I 
remember  passing  within  view  of  this  forbidding 
residence ;  and  seeing  it  always  shuttered, 
smokeless  and  deserted,  I  remarked  to  my 
parents  that  some  day  it  would  certainly  be 
robbed. 

"  Ah,  no,"  said  my  father,  "never  robbed  ;" 
and  I  observed  a  strange  conviction  in  his  tone. 

At  last,  and  not  long  before  the  blow  fell  on 
my  unhappy  family,  I  chanced  to  see  the  doc- 


38  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

tor' s  house  in  a  new  light.  My  father  was  ill ; 
my  mother  confined  to  his  bedside  ;  and  I  was 
suffered  to  go,  under  the  charge  of  our  driver, 
to  the  lonely  house  some  twenty  miles  away, 
where  our  packages  were  left  for  us.  The  horse 
cast  a  shoe  ;  night  overtook  us  halfway  home  ; 
and  it  was  well  on  for  three  in  the  morning 
when  the  driver  and  I,  alone  in  a  light  wagon, 
came  to  that  part  of  the  road  which  ran  below 
the  doctor1  s  house.  The  moon  swam  clear  ;  the 
cliffs  and  mountains  in  this  strong  light  lay 
utterly  deserted  ;  but  the  house,  from  its  station 
on  the  top  of  the  long  slope  and  close  under  the 
bluff,  not  only  shone  abroad  from  every  window 
like  a  place  of  festival,  but  from  the  great 
chimney  at  the  west  end  poured  forth  a 
coil  of  smoke  so  thick  and  so  voluminous,  that 
it  hung  for  miles  along  the  windless  night  air, 
and  its  shadow  lay  far  abroad  in  the  moonlight 
upon  the  glittering  alkali.     As  we  continued 

rTi(Kdraw  near,  besides,  a  regular  and  panting 
throb  began  to  divide  the  silence.  First  it 
seemed  to  me  like  the  beating  of  a  heart ;  and 
next  it  put  into  my  mind  the  thought  of  some 
giant  smothered  under  mountains   and  still, 

_with  incalculable  effort,  fetching  breath.  I 
had  heard  of  the  railway,  though  I  had  not 
seen  it,  and  I  turned  to  ask  the  driver  if  this 
resembled  it.  But  some  look  in  his  eye,  some 
pallor,  whether  of  fear  or  moonlight  on  his 


THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL.  39 

face,  caused  the  words  to  die  upon  my  lips. 
We  continued,  therefore,  to  advance  in  silence, 
till  we  were  close  below  the  lighted  house  ; 
when  suddenly,  without  one  premonitory 
rustle,  there  burst  forth  a  report  of  such  a  big- 
ness that  it  shook  the  earth  and  set  the  echoes 
of  the  mountains  thundering  from  cliff  to  cliff. 
A  pillar  of  amber  flame  leaped  from  the  chim- 
ney-top and  fell  in  multitudes  of  sparks  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  the  lights  in  the  windows 
turned  for  one  instant  ruby  red  and  then 
expired.  The  driver  had  checked  his  horse 
instinctively,  and  the  echoes  were  still  rum- 
bling further  off  among  the  mountains,  when 
there  broke  from  the  now  darkened  interior  a 
series  of  yells — whether  of  man  or  woman  it 
was  impossible  to  guess — the  door  flew  open, 
and  there  ran  forth  into  the  moonlight,  at  the 
top  of  the  long  slope,  a  figure  clad  in  white, 
which  began  to  dance  and  leap  and  throw  itself 
down,  and  roll  as  if  in  agony,  before  the  house. 
I  could  no  more  restrain  my  cries  ;  the  driver 
laid  his  lash  about  the  horse's  flank,  and  we 
fled  up  the  rough  track  at  the  peril  of  our 
lives  ;  and  did  not  draw  rein  till,  turning  the 
corner  of  the  mountain,  we  beheld  my  father's 
ranch  and  deep,  green  groves  and  gardens, 
sleeping  in  the  tranquil  light. 

This  was  the  one  adventure  of  my  life,  until 
my  father  had  climbed  to  the  very  topmost 


40  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

point  of  material  prosperity,  and  I  myself  had 
reached  the  age  of  seventeen.  I  was  still  inno- 
cent and  merry  like  a  child  ;  tended  my  garden 
or  ran  npon  the  hills  in  glad  simplicity  ;  gave 
not  a  thought  to  coquetry  or  to  material  cares ; 
and  if  my  eye  rested  on  my  own  image  in  a 
mirror  or  some  sylvan  spring,  it  was  to  seek 
and  recognize  the  features  of  my  parents.  But 
the  fears  which  had  long  pressed  on  others 
were  now  to  be  laid  on  my  youth.  (  I  had 
thrown  myself,  one  sultry,  cloudy  afternoon, 
on  a  divan  ;  the  windows  stood  open  on  the 
veranda,  where  my  mother  sat  with  her 
embroidery  ;  and  when  my  father  joined  her 
from  the  garden,  their  conversation,  clearly 
audible  to  me,  was  of  so  startling  a  nature  that 
it  held  me  enthralled  where  I  lay.  \ 

"The  blow  has  come,"  my  father  said,  after 
a  long  pause. 

I  could  hear  my  mother  start  and  turn,  but 
in  words  she  made  no  reply. 

"Yes,"  continued  my  father,  "I  have 
received  to-day  a  list  of  all  that  I  possess  ;  of 
all,  I  say ;  of  what  I  have  lent  privately  to  men 
whose  lips  are  sealed  with  terror ;  of  what  I 
have  buried  with  my  own  hand  on  the  bare 
mountain,  when  there  was  not  a  bird  in 
heaven.  Does  the  air,  then,  carry  secrets? 
Are  the  hills  of  glass  %  Do  the  stones  we  tread 
upon  preserve  the  footprint  to  betray  us  ?    Oh, 


THE  DESTRO  YING  A NGEL.  4 1 

Lucy,  Lucy,  that  we  should  have  come  to  such 
a  country ! ' ' 

"But  this,"  returned  my  mother,  "is  no 
very  new  or  very  threatening  event.  You  are 
accused  of  some  concealment.  You  will  pay 
more  taxes  in  the  future,  and  be  mulcted  in  a 
fine.  It  is  disquieting,  indeed,  to  find  our  acts 
so  spied  upon,  and  the  most  private  known. 
But  is  this  new  %  Have  we  not  long  feared  and 
suspected  every  blade  of  grass  ?  ' ' 

"Ay,  and  our  shadows!"  cried  my  father. 
"But  all  this  is  nothing.  Here  is  the  letter 
that  accompanied  the  list. ' ' 

I  heard  my  mother  turn  the  pages  ;  and  she 
was  some  time  silent. 

"  I  see,"  she  said  at  last ;  and  then  with  the 
tone  of  one  reading:  "  'From  a  believer  so 
largely  blessed  by  Providence  with  this  world's 
goods,1  "  she  continued,  "  'the  Church  awaits 
in  confidence  some  signal  mark  of  piety.' 
There  lies  the  sting.  Am  I  not  right?  These 
are  the  words  you  fear  ? " 

"These  are  the  words,"  replied  my  father. 
"Lucy,  you  remember  Priestley?  Two  days 
before  he  disappeared,  he  carried  me  to  the 
summit  of  an  isolated  butte  ;  we  could  see 
around  us  for  ten  miles  ;  sure,  if  in  any  quar- 
ter of  this  land  a  man  were  safe  from  spies,  it 
were  in  such  a  station  ;  but  it  was  in  the  very 
ague- fit  of  terror  that  he  told  me,  and  that   I 


42  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

heard,  his  story.  He  had  received  a  letter  such 
as  this  ;  and  he  submitted  to  my  approval  an 
answer  in  which  he  offered  to  resign  a  third  of 
his  possessions.  I  conjured  him,  as  he  valued 
his  life,  to  raise  his  offering  ;  and,  before  we 
parted,  he  had  doubled  the  amount.  Well, 
two  days  later  he  was  gone — gone  from  the 
chief  street  of  the  city  in  the  hour  of  noon — 
and  gone  forever.  0  God  !  "  cried  my  father, 
"  by  what  art  do  they  thus  spirit  out  of  life 
the  solid  body  %  What  death  do  they  command 
that  leaves  no  traces  ?  that  this  material  struc- 
ture, these  strong  arms,  this  skeleton  that  can 
resist  the  grave  for  centuries,  should  be  thus 
reft  in  a  moment  from  the  world  of  sense  %  A 
horror  dwells  in  that  thought  more  awful  than 
mere  death." 

' '  Is  there  no  hope  in  Grierson  % ' '  asked  my 
mother. 

"  Dismiss  the  thought,"  replied  my  father. 
"He  now  knows  all  that  I  can  teach,  and  will 
do  naught  to  save  me.  His  power,  besides,  is 
small,  his  own  danger  not  improbably  more 
imminent  than  mine  ;  for  he,  too,  lives  apart ; 
he  leaves  his  wives  neglected  and  unwatched  ; 
he  is  openly  cited  for  an  unbeliever  ;  and  unless 
he  buys  security  at  a  more  awful  price — but 
no  ;  I  will  not  believe  it ;  I  have  no  love  for 
him,  but  I  will  not  believe  it." 

"  Believe  what  \  "  asks  my  mother  ;  and  then5 


THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL.  43 

with  a  change  of  note,  "  But  oh,  what  matters 
it?"  she  cried.  "Abinielech,  there  is  but  one 
way  open  :  we  must  fly  !  " 

"It  is  in  vain, ' '  returned  my  father.  ' c I 
should  but  involve  you  in  my  fate.  To  leave 
this  land  is  hopeless  :  we  are  closed  in  it  as  men 
are  closed  in  life  ;  and  there  is  no  issue  but  the 
grave." 

"We  can  but  die  then,"  replied  my  mother. 
' '  Let  us  at  least  die  together.  Let  not  Asenath x 
and  myself  survive  you.  Think  to  what  a  fate 
we  should  be  doomed  !  " 

My  father  was  unable  to  resist  her  tender 
violence  ;  and  though  I  could  see  he  nourished 
not  one  spark  of  hope,  he  consented  to  desert 
his  whole  estate,  beyond  some  hundreds  of  dol- 
lars that  he  had  by  him  at  the  moment,  and  to 
flee  that  night,  which  promised  to  be  dark  and 
cloudy.  As  soon  as  the  servants  were  asleep, 
he  was  to  load  two  mules  with  provisions  ;  two 
others  were  to  carry  my  mother  and  myself  ; 
and,  striking  through  the  mountains  by  an  un- 
frequented trail,  we  were  to  make  a  fair  stroke 
for  liberty  and  life.  As  soon  as  they  had  thus 
decided,  I  showed  myself  at  the  window,  and, 
owning  that  I  had  heard  all,  assured  them  that 
they  could  rely  on  my  prudence  and  devotion. 
I  had  no  fear,  indeed,  but  to  show  myself  un- 

1  In  this  name  the  accent  falls  upon  the  e  ;  the  s  is  sibilant. 


44  THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL. 

worthy  of  my  birth  ;  I  held  my  life  in  my  hand 
without  alarm  ;  and  when  my  father,  weeping 
upon  my  neck,  had  blessed  Heaven  for  the 
courage  of  his  child,  it  was  with  a  sentiment  of 
pride  and  some  of  the  joy  that  warriors  take  in 
war,  that  I  began  to  look  forward  to  the  perils 
of  our  flight. 

Before  midnight,  under  an  obscure  and  star- 
less heaven,  we  had  left  far  behind  us  the  plant- 
ations of  the  valley,  and  were  mounting  a  cer- 
tain canyon  in  the  hills,  narroAv,  encumbered 
with  great  rocks,  and  echoing  with  the  roar  of 
a  tumultuous  torrent.  Cascade  after  cascade 
thundered  and  hung  up  its  flag  of  Avhiteness  in 
the  night,  or  fanned  our  faces  with  the  wet 
wind  of  its  descent.  The  trail  was  breakneck, 
and  led  to  famine-guarded  deserts  ;  it  had  been 
long  since  deserted  for  more  practicable  routes; 
and  it  was  now  a  part  of  the  world  untrod  from 
year  to  year  by  human  footing.  Judge  of  our 
dismay,  when  turning  suddenly  an  angle  of  the 
cliffs,  we  found  a  bright  bonfire  blazing  by  itself 
under  an  impending  rock  ;  and  on  the  face  of 
the  rock,  drawn  very  rudely  with  charred  wood, 
the  great  Open  Eye  which  is  the  emblem  of  the. 
Mormon  faith.  We  looked  upon  each  other  in 
the  firelight ;  my  mother  broke  into  a  passion 
of  tears  ;  but  not  a  word  was  said.  The  mules 
were  turned  about ;  and  leaving  that  great  eye 
to  guard  the  lonely  canyon,  we  retraced  our 


THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL.  45 

steps  in  silence.  Day  had  not  yet  broken  ere 
we  were  once  more  at  home,  condemned  beyond 
reprieve. 

What  answer  my  father  sent  I  was  not  told  ; 
bnt  two  days  later,  a  little  before  sundown,  I 
saw  a  plain,  honest-looking  man  ride  slowly  up 
the  road  in  a  great  pother  of  dust.  He  was  clad 
in  homespun,  with  a  broad  straw  hat ;  wore  a 
patriarchal  beard  ;  and  had  an  air  of  a  simple 
rustic  farmer,  that  was,  in  my  eyes,  very  reas- 
suring. He  was,  indeed,  a  very  honest  man 
and  pious  Mormon  ;  with  no  liking  for  his 
errand,  though  neither  he  nor  any  one  in  Utah 
dared  to  disobey  ;  and  it  was  with  every  mark 
of  diffidence  that  he  had  himself  announced  as 
Mr.  Aspinwall,  and  entered  the  room  where  our 
unhappy  family  was  gathered.  My  mother 
and  me  he  awkwardly  enough  dismissed  ;  and 
as  soon  as  he  was  alone  with  my  father  laid 
before  him  a  blank  signature  of  President 
Young' s,  and  offered  him  a  choice  of  services  : 
either  to  set  out  as  a  missionary  to  the  tribes 
about  the  White  Sea,  or  to  join  the  next  day, 
with  a  party  of  Destroying  Angels,  in  the  mas- 
sacre of  sixty  German  immigrants.  The  last, 
of  course,  my  father  could  not  entertain,  and 
the  first  he  regarded  as  a  pretext :  even  if  he 
could  consent  to  leare  his  wife  defenseless,  and 
to  collect  fresh  victims  for  the  tyranny  under 
which  he  was  himself  oppressed,  he  felt  sure 


46  THE  DESTROYING  AX  GEL. 

he  would  never  be  suffered  to  return.  He  refuted 
botli  ;  and  Aspinwall,  be  said,  betrayed  sincere 
emotion,  part  religious,  at  the  spectacle  of  such 
disobedience,  but  part  human,  in  pity  for  my 
father  and  his  family.  He  besought  him  to 
reconsider  his  decision  ;  and  at  length,  finding 
he  could  not  prevail,  gave  him  till  the  moon 
rose  to  settle  his  affairs,  and  say  farewell  to 
wife  and  daughter.  "For,"  said  he,  "then,  at 
the  latest,  you  must  ride  with  me." 

I  dare  not  dwell  upon  the  hours  that  fol- 
lowed :  they  fled  all  too  fast  ;  and  presently 
the  moon  out-topped  the  eastern  range,  and  my 
father  and  Mr.  Aspinwall  set  forth,  side  by 
side,  on  their  nocturnal  journey.  My  mother, 
though  still  bearing  a  heroic  countenance,  had 
hastened  to  shut  herself  in  her  apartment, 
thenceforward  solitary  ;  and  I,  alone  in  the 
dark  house,  and  consumed  by  grief  and  appre- 
hension, made  haste  to  saddle  my  Indian  pony, 
to  ride  up  to  the  corner  of  the  mountain,  and 
to  enjoy  one  farewell  sight  of  my  departing 
father.  The  two  men  had  set  forth  at  a  delib- 
erate pace  ;  nor  was  I  long  behind  them,  when 
I  reached  the  point  of  view.  I  was  the  more 
amazed  to  see  no  moving  creature  in  the  land- 
scape. The  moon,  as  the  saying  is.  shone  bright 
as  day  ;  and  nowhere,  under  the  whole  arch  of 
night,  was  there  a  growing  tree,  a  bush,  a  farm, 
a  patch  of  tillage,  or  any  evidence  of  man,  but 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  47 


one.  From  the  corner  where  I  stood,  a  rugged 
bastion  of  the  line  of  bluffs  concealed  the  doc- 
tor's  house  ;  and  across  the  top  of  that  projec- 
tion the  soft  night  wind  carried  and  unwound 
about  the  hills  a  coil  of  sable  smoke.  What 
fuel  could  produce  a  vapor  so  sluggish  to  dis- 
sipate in  that  dry  air,  or  what  furnace  pour  it 
forth  so  copiously,  I  was  unable  to  conceive  ; 
but  I  knew  well  enough  that  it  came  from  the 
doctor' s  chimney  ;  I  saw  well  enough  that  my 
father  had  already  disappeared  ;  and  in  de- 
spite of  reason,  I  connected  in  my  mind  the  loss 
of  that  dear  protector  with  the  ribbon  of  foul 
smoke  that  trailed  along  the  mountains. 

Days  passed,  and  still  my  mother  and  I  waited 
in  vain  for  news  ;  a  week  went  by,  a  second 
followed,  but  we  heard  no  word  of  the  father 
and  husband.  As  smoke  dissipates,  as  the 
image  glides  from  the  mirror,  so  in  the  ten  or 
twenty  minutes  that  I  had  spent  in  getting  my 
horse  and  following  upon  his  trail,  had  that 
strong  and  brave  man  vanished  out  of  life. 
Hope,  if  any  hope  we  had,  fled  with  every 
hour  ;  the  worst  was  now  certain  for  my  father, 
the  worst  was  to  be  dreaded  for  his  defense- 
less family.  Without  weakness,  with  a  des- 
perate calm  at  which  I  marvel  when  I  look  back 
upon  it,  the  widow  and  the  orphan  awaited  the 
event.  On  the  last  day  of  the  third  week  we 
rose  in  the  morning  to  find  ourselves  alone  in 


48  THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL. 

the  house,  alone,  so  far  as  we  searched,  on  the 
estate  ;  all  our  attendants,  with  one  accord,  had 
fled  ;  and  as  we  knew  them  to  be  gratefully 
devoted,  we  drew  the  darkest  intimations  from 
their  flight.  The  day  passed,  indeed,  without 
event ;  but  in  the  fall  of  the  evening  we  were 
calledat  last  into  the  veranda  by  the  approach- 
ing clink  of  horse's  hoofs. 

The  doctor,  mounted  on  an  Indian  pony,  rode 
into  the  garden,  dismounted,  and  saluted  us. 
He  seemed  much  more  bent,  and  his  hair  more 
silvery  than  ever  ;  but  his  demeanor  was  com- 
posed, serious,  and  not  unkind. 

"Madam/'  said  he,  "I  am  come  upon  a 
weighty  errand  ;  and  I  would  have  you  recog- 
nize it  as  an  effect  of  kindness  in  the  President, 
that  he  should  send  as  his  ambassador  your 
only  neighbor  and  your  husband's  oldest  friend 
in  Utah." 

"Sir,"  said  my  mother,  "I  have  but  one 
concern,  one  thought.  You  know  well  what  it 
is.     Speak  :  my  husband  \ " 

"Madam,"  returned  the  doctor,  taking  a 
chair  on  the  veranda,  "if  you  were  a  silly 
child,  my  position  would  now  be  painfully  em- 
barrassing. You  are  on  the  other  hand,  a 
woman  of  great  intelligence  and  fortitude  ;  you 
have,  by  my  forethought,  been  allowed  three 
weeks  to  draw  your  own  conclusions  and  to 
accept  the  inevitable.  Further  words  from  me 
are,  I  conceive,  superfluous." 


THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL.  49 

My  mother  was  as  pale  as  death,  and  trem- 
bled like  a  reed  ;  I  gave  her  my  hand,  and  she 
kept  it  in  the  folds  of  her  dress  and  wrung  it 
till  I  could  have  cried  aloud.  "Then,  sir," 
said  she  at  last,  uyous|3eak  to  deaf  ears.  If 
this  be  indeed  so,  what  have  I  to  do  with  er- 
rands ?  what  do  I  ask  of  Heaven  but  to  die? " 

"Come,"  said  the  doctor,  u  command  your- 
self. I  bid  you  dismiss  all  thoughts  of  your 
late  husband,  and  bring  a  clear  mind  to  bear 
upon  your  own  future  and  the  fate  of  that 
young  girl." 

"  You  bid  me  dismiss "  began  my  mother. 

"  Then  you  know ! "  she  cried. 

"I  know,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"You  know?"  broke  out  the  poor  woman. 
' '  Then  it  was  you  who  did  the  deed  !  I  tear 
off  the  mask,  and  with  dread  and  loathing  see 
you  as  you  are — you,  whom  the  poor  fugitive 
beholds  in  nightmares,  and  awakes  raving — 
you,  the  Destroying  Angel !  " 

"Well,  madam,  and  what  then?"  returned 
the  doctor.  "Have  not  my  fate  and  yours 
been  similar  ?  Are  we  not  both  immured  in 
this  strong  prison  of  Utah  ?  Have  you  not 
tried  to  flee,  and  did  not  the  Open  Eye  confront 
you  in  the  canyon  ?  Who  can  escape  the  watch 
of  that  unsleeping  eye  of  Utah?  Not  I,  at 
least.  Horrible  tasks  have,  indeed,  been  laid 
upon  me ;  and  the  most  ungrateful  was  the 


50  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

last ;  but  had  I  refused  my  offices,  would  that 
have  spared  your  husband  ?  You  know  well 
it  would  not,  I,  too,  had.  perished  along  with 
him;  nor  would  I  have  been  able  to  alleviate  his 
last  moments,  nor  could  I  to-day  have  stood 
between  his  family  and  the  hand  of  Brigham 
Young." 

"Ah!"  cried  I,  "and  could  you  purchase 
life  by  such  concessions  \ ' ' 

"Young  lady,"  answered  the  doctor,  "I 
both  could  and  did  ;  and  you  will  live  to  thank 
me  for  that  baseness.  You  had  a  spirit,  Asenath, 
that  it  pleases  me  to  recognize.  But  we  waste 
time.  Mr.  Fonblanque's  estate  reverts,  as  you 
doubtless  imagine,  to  the  church  ;  but  some 
part  of  it  has  been  reserved  for  him  who  is  to 
marry  the  family ;  and  that  person,  I  should 
perhaps  tell  you  without  delay,  is  no  other 
than  myself." 

At  this  odious  proposal  my  mother  and  I 
cried  out  aloud,  and  clung  together  like  lost 
souls. 

"It  is  as  I  supposed,"  resumed  the  doctor, 
with  the  same  measured  utterance.  "  You  re- 
coil from  this  arrangement.  Do  you  expect 
me  to  convince  you  \  You  know  very  well  that 
I  have  never  held  the  Mormon  view  of  women. 
Absorbed  in  the  most  arduous  studies,  I  have 
left  the  slatterns  whom  they  call  my  wives  to 
scratch  and  quarrel  among  themselves  ;  of  me, 


THE  DESTRO  YING  A NGEL.  5 1 

they  have  had  nothing  but  my  purse  ;  such  was 
not  the  union  I  desired,  even  if  I  had  the  leis- 
ure to  pursue  it.  No :  you  need  not,  madam, 
and  my  old  friend — "  and  here  the  doctor  rose 
and  bowed  with  something  of  gallantry — "you 
need  not  apprehend  my  importunities.  On 
the  contrary,  I  am  rejoiced  to  read  in  you  a 
Roman  spirit ;  and  if  I  am  obliged  to  bid  you 
follow  me  at  once,  and  that  in  the  name,  not 
of  my  wish,  but  of  my  orders,  I  hope  it  will  be 
found  that  we  are  of  a  common  mind." 

So,  bidding  us  dress  for  the  road,  he  took  a 
lamp  (for  the  night  had  now  fallen)  and  set  off 
to  the  stable  to  prepare  our  horses. 

"  What  does  it  mean  \ — what  will  become  of 
us  ? "  I  cried. 

"Not  that,  at  least,"  replied  my  mother, 
shuddering.  "So  far  we  can  trust  him.  I 
seem  to  read  among  his  words  a  certain  tragic 
promise.  Asenath,  if  I  leave  you,  if  I  die,  you 
will  not  forget  your  miserable  parents  % ' ' 

Thereupon  we  fell  to  cross-purposes :  I  be- 
seeching her  to  explain  her  words  ;  she  putting 
me  by,  and  continuing  to  recommend  the  doc- 
tor for  a  friend.  ' '  The  doctor  ! "  I  cried  at 
last ;  "  the  man  who  killed  my  father  ? " 

"Nay,"  said  she,  "let  us  be  just.  I  do 
believe,  before  Heaven,  he  played  the  friend- 
liest part.  And  he  alone,  Asenath,  can  pro- 
tect you  in  this  land  of  death." 


52  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

At  this  the  doctor  returned,  leading  our  two 
horses  ;  and  when  we  were  all  in  the  saddle,  he 
.bade  me  ride  on  before,  as  he  had  matter  to 
discuss  with  Mrs.  Fonblanque.  They  came  at 
a  foot' s  pace,  eagerly  conversing  in  a  whisper  ; 
and  presently  after  the  moon  rose  and  showed 
them  looking  eagerly  into  each  other's  faces  as 
they  went,  my  mother  laying  her  hand  upon 
the  doctor  s  arm,  and  the  doctor  himself,  against 
his  usual  custom,  making  vigorous  gestures  of 
protest  or  asseveration. 

At  the  foot  of  the  track  which  ascended  the 
talus  of  the  mountain  to  his  door,  the  doctor 
overtook  me  at  a  trot. 

"Here,'1  he  said,  "  we  shall  dismount ;  and 
as  your  mother  prefers  to  be  alone,  you  and  I 
shall  walk  together  to  my  house." 

"  Shall  I  see  her  again  %  "  I  asked. 

"I  give  you  my  word,"  he  said,  and  helped 
me  to  alight.  "  We  leave  the  horses  here,"  he 
added.  "  There  are  no  thieves  in  this  stone 
wilderness." 

The  track  mounted  gradually,  keeping  the 
house  in  view.  The  windows  were  once  more 
bright ;  the  chimney  once  more  vomited  smoke ; 
but  the  most  absolute  silence  reigned,  and,  but 
for  the  figure  of  my  mother  very  slowly  follow- 
ing in  our  wake,  I  felt  convinced  that  there  was 
no  human  soul  within  a  range  of  miles.  At 
the  thought,  I  looked  upon  the  doctor,  gravely 


THE  DESTRO  YING  A NGEL .  5 3 

walking  by  my  side,  with  bowed  shoulders,  and 
then  once  more  at  his  house,  lit  up  and  pour- 
ing smoke  like  some  industrious  factory.  And 
then  my  curiosity  broke  forth.  "In  heaven's 
name,"  I  cried,  "what  do  you  make  in  this 
inhuman  desert  \ " 

' '  He  looked  at  me  with  a  peculiar  smile, 
and  answered  with  an  evasion  : 

"  This  is  not  the  first  time,"  said  he,  "  that 
you  have  seen  my  furnaces  alight.  One 
morning,  in  the  small  hours,  I  saw  you  driving 
past ;  a  delicate  experiment  miscarried  ;  and  I 
can  not  acquit  myself  of  having  startled  either 
your  driver  or  the  horse  that  drew  you." 

"  What !  "  cried  I,  beholding  again  in  fancy 
the  antics  of  the  figure,  ' '  could  that  be  you  \ ' ' 

"It  was  I,"  her  eplied  ;  "  but  do  not  fancy 
that  I  was  mad.  I  was  in  agony.  I  had  been 
scalded  cruelly." 

We  were  now  near  the  house,  which,  unlike 
the  ordinary  houses  of  the  country,  was  built 
of  hewn  stone  and  very  solid.  Stone,  too,  was 
its  foundation,  stone  its  background.  Not  a 
blade  of  grass  sprouted  among  the  broken  min- 
eral about  the  walls,  not  a  flower  adorned  the 
windows.  Over  the  door,  by  way  of  sole 
adornment,  the  Mormon  Eye  was  rudely  sculp- 
tured ;  I  had  been  brought  up  to  view  that 
emblem  from  my  childhood ;  but  since  the 
night  of  our  escape,  it  had  acquired  a  new  sig- 


54  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

nificance,  and  set  me  shrinking.  The  smoke 
rolled  voluminously  from  the  chimney  top,  its 
edges  ruddy  with  the  tire  ;  and  from  the  far 
corner  of  the  building,  near  the  ground,  angry 
puffs  of  steam  shone  snow-white  in  the  moon 
and  vanished. 

The  doctor  opened  the  door  and  paused  upon 
the  threshold.  "You  ask  me  what  I  make 
here,"  he  observed:  "Two  things:  Life  and 
Death."     And  he  motioned  me  to  enter. 

"I  shall  await  my  mother,"  said  I. 

"  Child,"  he  replied,  "look  at  me  :  am  I  not 
old  and  broken?  Of  us  two,  which  is  the 
stronger,  the  young  maiden  or  the  withered 
man?" 

I  bowed,  and  passing  by  him,  entered  a  ves- 
tibule or  kitchen,  lighted  by  a  good  fire  and  a 
shaded  reading-lamp.  It  was  furnished  only 
with  a  dresser,  a  rude  table,  and  some  wooden 
benches  ;  and  *  on  one  of  these  the  doctor 
motioned  me  to  take  a  seat ;  and  passing  by 
another  door  into  the  interior  of  the  house,  he 
left  me  to  myself.  Presently  I  heard  the  jar  of 
iron  from  the  far  end  of  the  building  ;  and  this 
was  followed  by  the  same  throbbing  noise  that 
had  startled  me  in  the  valley,  but  now  so  near 
at  hand  as  to  be  menacing  by  loudness,  and 
even  to  shake  the  house  with  every  recurrence 
of  the  stroke.  I  had  scarce  time  to  master  my 
alarm  when  the  doctor  returned,  and  almost  m 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  55 

the  same  moment  my  mother  appeared  upon  the 
threshold.  '  But  how  am  I  to  describe  to  you 
the  peace  and  ravishment  of  that  face  \  Years 
seemed  to  have  passed  over  her  head  during 
that  brief  ride,  and  left  her  younger  and  fairer  ; 
her  eyes  shone,  her  smile  went  to  my  heart ; 
she  seemed  no  more  a  woman,  but  the  angel  of 
ecstatic  tenderness.  I  ran  to  her  in  a  kind  of 
terror ;  but  she  shrank  a  little  back  and  laid 
her  finger  on  her  lips,  with  something  arch 
and  yet  unearthly.  To  the  doctor,  on  the  con- 
trary, she  reached  out  her  hand  as  to  a  friend 
and  helper ;  and  so  strange  was  the  scene  that 
I  forgot  to  be  offended. 

"Lucy,"  said  the  doctor,  " all  is  prepared. 
Will  you  go  alone,  or  shall  your  daughter  fol- 
low us  % " 

"Let  Asenath  come,"  she  answered,  "dear 
Asenath  !  At  this  hour,  when  I  am  purified  of 
fear  and  sorrow,  and  already  survive  myself 
and  my  affections,  it  is  for  your  sake,  and  not 
for  mine,  that  I  desire  her  presence.  Were  she 
shut  out,  dear  friend,  it  is  to  be  feared  she 
might  misjudge  your  kindness." 

"  Mother,"  I  cried  wildly,  "  mother,  what  is 
this?" 

But  my  mother,  with  her  radiant  smile,  said 
only  ' '  Hush  !  "  as  though  I  were  a  child  again, 
and  tossing  in  some  fever-fit ;  and  the  doctor 
bade  me  be  silent  and  trouble  her  no  more. 


5  6  THE  DES  TRO  YING  ANGEL , 

"You  have  made  a  choice,"  he  continued, 
addressing  my  mother,  "  that  has  often 
strangely  tempted  me.  The  two  extremes :  all,  or 
else  nothing  ;  never,  or  this  very  hour  upon  the 
clock— these  have  been  my  incongruous  desires. 
But  to  accept  the  middle  term,  to  be  content 
with  a  half -gift,  to  nicker  awhile  and  to  burn 
out — never  for  an  hour,  never  since  I  was  born, 
has  satisfied  the  appetite  of  my  ambition." 
He  looked  upon  my  mother  fixedly,  much  of 
admiration  and  some  touch  of  envy  in  his  eyes  ; 
then,  with  a  profound  sigh,  he  led  the  way  into 
the  inner  room. 

It  was  very  long.  From  end  to  end  it  was 
lit  up  by  many  lamps,  which  by  the  changeful 
color  of  their  light,  and  by  the  incessant  snap- 
ping sounds  with  which  they  burned,  I  have 
since  divined  to  be  electric.  At  the  extreme 
end  an  open  door  gave  us  a  glimpse  into  what 
mnst  have  been  a  lean-to  shed  beside  the  chim- 
ney :  and  this,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  room, 
was  painted  with  a  red  reverberation,  as  from 
furnace-doors.  The  walls  were  lined  with  books 
and  glazed  cases,  the  tables  crowded  with  the 
implements  of  chemical  research  ;  great  glass 
accumulators  glittered  in  the  light;  and 
through  a  hole  in  the  gable  near  the  shed  door, 
a  heavy  driving  belt  entered  the  apartment 
and  ran  overhead  upon  steel  pulleys,  with 
clumsy  activity  and  many  ghostly  and  flutter- 


THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL.  5  7 

tering  sounds.  In  one  corner  I  perceived  a 
chair  resting  upon  crystal  feet,  and  curiously 
wreathed  with  wire.  To  this  my  mother  ad- 
vanced with  a  decisive  swiftness. 

' '  Is  this  it  \ "  she  asked. 

The  doctor  bowed  in  silence. 

"Asenath,"  said  my  mother,  "in  this  sad 
end  of  my  life  I  have  found  one  helper.  Look 
upon  him :  it  is  Doctor  Grierson.  Be  not,  O 
my  daughter,  be  not  ungrateful  to  that 
friend!" 

She  sat  upon  the  chair,  and  took  in  her  hands 
the  globes  that  terminated  the  arms. 

"  Am  I  right  %  "  she  asked,  and  looked  upon 
the  doctor  with  such  a  radiancy  of  face  that  I 
trembled  for  her  reason.  Once  more  the  doc- 
tor bowed,  but  this  time  leaning  hard  against 
the  wall.  He  must  have  touched  a  spring. 
The  least  shock  agitated  my  mother  where  she 
sat ;  the  least  passing  jar  appeared  to  cross  her 
features  ;  and  she  sank  back  in  the  chair  like 
one  resigned  to  weariness.  I  was  at  her  knees 
that  moment ;  but  her  hands  fell  loosely  in  my 
grasp  ;  her  face,  still  beatified  with  the  same 
touching  smile,  sank  forward  on  her  bosom  ; 
her  spirit  had  forever  fled. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  may  have  elapsed 
before,  raising  for  a  moment  my  tearful  face,  I 
met  the  doctor1  s  eyes.  They  rested  upon  mine 
with  such  a  depth  of  scrutiny,  pity,  and  inter- 


58  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

est,  that  even  from  the  freshness  of  my  sorrow, 
I  was  startled  into  attention. 

"  Enough,"  he  said,  "  to  lamentation.  Yonr 
mother  went  to  death  as  to  a  bridal,  dying 
where  her  husband  died.  It  is  time,  Asenath, 
to  think  of  the  survivors.  Follow  me  to  the 
next  room. ' ' 

I  followed  him,  like  a  person  in  a  dream  ;  he 
made  me  sit  by  the  fire,  he  gave  me  wine 
to  drink  ;  and  then,  pacing  the  stone  floor,  he 
thus  began  to  address  me  : 

"  You  are  now,  my  child,  alone  in  the  world, 
and  under  the  immediate  watch  of  Brigham 
Young.  It  would  be  your  lot,  in  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, to  become  the  fiftieth  bride  of  some 
ignoble  elder,  or  by  particular  fortune,  as  for- 
tune is  counted  in  this  land,  to  find  favor  in 
the  eyes  of  the  president  himself.  Such  a  fate 
for  a  girl  like  you  were  worse  than  death  ;  bet- 
ter to  die  as  your  mother  died  than  to  sink 
daily  deeper  in  the  mire  of  this  pit  of  woman' s 
degradation.  But  is  escape  conceivable  %  Your 
father  tried  ;  and  you  beheld  yourself  with 
what  security  his  jailers  acted,  and  how  a  dumb 
drawing  on  a  rock  was  counted  a  sufficient  sen- 
try over  the  avenues  of  freedom.  Where  your 
father  failed,  will  you  be  wiser  or  more  fortun- 
ate ?  or  are  you,  too,  helpless  in  the  toils  ?" 

I  had  followed  his  Avords  with  changing  emo- 
tion, but  now  I  believed  I  understood. 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  59 

"  I  see,"  I  cried  ;  "  you  judge  me  rightly.  I 
must  follow  where  my  parents  led  ;  and  oh  !  I 
am  not  only  willing,  I  am  eager  !  " 

"No,"  replied  the  doctor,  "not  death  for 
you.  The  flawed  vessel  we  may  break,  but  not 
the  perfect.  JSTo,  your  mother  cherished  a  dif- 
ferent hope,  and  so  do  I.  I  see,"  he  cried,  "the 
girl  develop  to  the  completed  woman,  the  plan 
reach  fulfillment,  the  promise — ay,  outdone  !  I 
could  not  bear  to  arrest  so  lively,  so  comely  a 
process.  It  was  your  mother's  thought,"  he 
added,  with  a  change  of  tone,  "that  I  should 
marry  you  myself."  I  fear  I  must  have  shown 
a  perfect  horror  of  aversion  fr®m  this  fate,  for 
he  made  haste  to  quiet  me.  ' '  Reassure  your- 
self, Asenath,"  he  resumed.  "  Old  as  I  am,  I 
have  not  forgotten  the  tumultuous  fancies  of 
youth.  I  have  passed  my.days,  indeed,  in  lab- 
oratories ;  but  in  all  my  vigils  I  have  not  for- 
gotten the  tune  of  a  young  pulse.  Age  asks 
with  timidity  to  be  spared  intolerable  pain  ; 
youth,  taking  fortune  by  the  beard,  demands 
joy  like  a  right.  These  things  I  have  not  for- 
gotten ;  none,  rather,  has  more  keenly  felt,  none 
more  jealously  considered  them  ;  I  have  but 
postponed  them  to  their  day.  See,  then  ;  you 
stand  without  support ;  the  only  friend  left  to 
you,  this  old  investigator,  old  in  cunning, 
young  in  sympathy.  Answer  me  but  one^ques- 
tion.      Are  you  free  from  the  entanglement  of 


60  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

what  the  world  calls  love?  Do  you  still 
command  your  heart  and  purposes  ?  or  are  you 
fallen  in  some  bond-slavery  of  the  eye  and 
ear?" 

I  answered  him  in  broken  words  ;  my  heart, 
I  think  I  must  have  told  him,  lay  with  my  dead 
parents. 

"  It  is  enough,"  he  said.  "  It  has  been  my 
fate  to  be  called  on  often,  too  often,  for  those 
services  of  which  we  spoke  to-night ;  none  in 
Utah  could  carry  them  so  well  to  a  conclusion ; 
hence  there  has  fallen  into  my  hands  a  certain 
share  of  influence  which  I  now  lay  at  your  serv- 
ice, partly  for  the  sake  of  my  dead  friends, 
your  parents  ;  partly  for  the  interest  I  bear  you 
in  your  own  right.  I  shall  send  you  to  En- 
gland, to  the  great  city  of  London,  there  to  await 
the  bridegroom  I  have  selected.  He  shall  be  a 
son  of  mine,  a  young  man  suitable  in  age  and 
not  grossly  deficient  in  that  quality  of  beauty 
that  your  years  demand.  Since  your  heart  is 
free,  you  may  well  pledge  me  the  sole  promise 
that  I  ask  in  return  for  much  expense  and  still 
more  danger  ;  to  await  the  arrival  of  that 
bridegroom  with  the  delicacy  of  a  wife." 

I  sat  awhile  stunned.  The  doctor5  s  marriages, 
I  remembered  to  have  heard,  had  been  unfruit- 
ful ;  and  this  added  perplexity  to  my  distress. 
But  I  was  alone,  as  he  had  said,  alone  in  that 
dark  land  ;  the  thought  of  escape,  of  any  equal 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  61 

was  already  enough  to  revive  in  me 
some  dawn  of  hope  ;  and  in  what  words  I  know 
not,  I  accepted  the  proposal. 

He  seemed  more  moved  by  my  consent  than  I 
conld  reasonably  have  looked  for.  "  You  shall 
see,"  he  cried  ;  "  you  shall  judge  for  yourself." 
And  hurrying  to  the  next  room  he  returned 
with  a  small  portrait  somewhat  coarsely  done 
in  oils.  It  showed  a  man  in  the  dress  of  nearly 
forty  years  before,  young  indeed,  but  still 
recognizable  to  be  the  doctor.  "  'Do  you  like  it  V ' 
he  asked.  ' '  That  is  myself  when  I  was  young. 
My— my  boy  will  be  like  that,  like  but  nobler  ; 
with  such  health  as  angels  might  condescend  to 
envy;  and  a  man  of  mind,  Asenath,  of  com- 
manding mind.  That  should  be  a  man,  I  think, 
that  should  be  one  among  ten  thousand.  A 
man  like  that— one  to  combine  the  passions  of 
youth  with  the  restraint,  the  force,  the  dignity 
of  age— one  to  fill  all  the  parts  and  faculties, 
one  to  be  man's  epitome— say,  will  that  not 
satisfy  the  needs  of  an  ambitious  girl  'I  Say,  is 
not  that  enough  % "  And  as  he  held  the  picture 
close  before  my  eyes,  his  hands  shook. 

I  told  him  briefly  I  would  ask  no  better,  fori 
was  transpierced  with  this  display  of  fatherly 
emotion  ;  but  even  as  I  said  the  words,  the 
most  insolent  revolt  surged  through  my  arteries. 
I  held  him  in  horror,  him,  his  portrait,  and  his 
son  ;  and  had  there  been  any  choice  but  death 


62  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

or  a  Mormon  marriage,  I  declare  before  heaven 
I  had  embraced  it. 

"It  is  well,"  he  replied,  "and  I  had  rightly 
counted  on  your  spirit.  Eat,  then,  for  you 
have  far  to  go."  So  saying,  he  set  meat  before 
me  ;  and  while  I  was  endeavoring  to  obey,  he 
left  the  room  and  returned  with  an  armful  of 
coarse  raiment.  "There,"  said  he,  "is  your 
disguise.     I  leave  you  to  your  toilet." 

The  clothes  had  probably  belonged  to  a  some- 
what lubberly  boy  of  fifteen  ;  and  they  hung 
about  me  like  a  sack,  and  cruelly  hampered  my 
movements.  But  what  filled  me  with  uncon- 
trollable shudderings,  was  the  problem  of  their 
origin  and  the  fate  of  the  lad  to  whom  they 
had  belonged.  I  had  scarcely  effected  the 
exchange  when  \h&  doctor  returned,  opened  a 
back  window,  helped  me  out  into  the  narrow 
space  between  the  house  and  the  overhanging 
bluffs,  and  showed  me  a  ladder  of  iron  footholds 
mortised  in  the  rock.  "Mount,"  he  said, 
swiftly.  "  When  you  are  at  the  summit,  walk 
so  far  as  you  are  able,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
smoke.  The  smoke  will  bring  von,  sooner  or 
later,  to  a  canyon  ;  follow  that  down,  and  you 
will  find  a  man  with  two  horses.  Him  you  will 
implicitly  obey.  And  remember,  silence  !  That 
machinery  which  I  no%  put  in  motion  for  your 
service,  may  by  one  wold  be  turned  against  you, 
Go  ;  heaven  prosper  you  ! ' ' 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  6$ 

The  ascent  was  easy.  Arrived  at  the  top  of 
the  cliff,  I  saw  before  me  on  the  other  side  a 
vast  and  gradual  declivity  of  stone,  lying  bare 
to  the  moon  and  the  surrounding  mountains. 
Nowhere  was  any  vantage  or  concealment ;  and 
knowing  how  these  deserts  were  beset  with 
spies,  I  made  haste  to  veil  my  movements  under 
the  blowing  trail  of  smoke.  Sometimes  it  swam 
high,  rising  on  the  night  wind,  and  I  had  no 
more  substantial  curtain  than  its  moon-thrown 
shadow  ;  sometimes  again  it  crawled  upon  the 
earth,  and  I  would  walk  in  it,  no  higher  than 
to  my  shoulders,  like  some  mountain  fog.  But 
one  way  or  another,  the  smoke  of  that  ill- 
omened  furnace  protected  the  first  step  of  my 
escape,  and  led  me  unobserved  to  the  canyon. 

There,  sure  enough,  I  found  a  taciturn  and 
somber  man  beside  a  pair  of  saddle-horses  ;  and 
thenceforward,  all  night  long,  we  wandered  in 
silence  by  the  most  occult  and  dangerous  paths 
among  the  mountains.  A  little  before  the  day- 
spring  we  took  refuge  in  a  wet  and  gusty  cavern 
at  the  bottom  of  a  gorge  ;  lay  there  all  day  con- 
cealed ;  and  the  next  night,  before  the  glow 
had  faded  out  of  the  west,  resumed  our  wander- 
ings. About  noon  we  stopped  again,  in  a  lawn 
upon  a  little  river,  where  was  a  screen  of  bushes  ; 
and  here  my  guide,  hancLy^  me  a  bundle  from 
his  pack,  bade  me  chang^my  dress  once  more. 
The  bundle  contained  clothing  of  my  own,  taken 


64  THE  DESTRO  YING  ANGEL. 

from  our  house,  with  such  necessaries  as  a  comb 
and  soap.  I  made  my  toilet  by  the  mirror  of  a 
quiet  pool ;  and  as  I  was  so  doing  and  smiling 
with  some  complacency  to  see  myself  restored 
to  my  own  image,  the  mountains  rang  with  a 
scream  of  far  more  than  human  piercingness  ; 
and  while  I  still  stood  astonished,  there  sprang 
up  and  swiftly  increased  a  storm  of  the  most 
awful  and  earth-rending  sounds.  Shall  I  own 
to  you  that  I  fell  upon  my  face  and  shrieked  \ 
And  yet  this  was  but  the  overland  train  wind- 
ing among  the  near  mountains  :  the  very  means 
of  my  salvation  :  the  strong  wings  that  were  to 
carry  me  from  Utah  ! 

When  I  was  dressed,  the  guide  gave  me  a 
bag,  wThich  contained,  he  said,  both  money  and 
papers  ;  and  telling  me  that  I  was  already  over 
the  borders  in  the  territory  of  Wyoming,  bade 
me  follow  the  stream  until  I  reached  the  rail- 
way station,  half  a  mile  below.  "Here,"  he 
added,  "is  your  ticket  as  far  as  Council 
Bluffs.  The  East  express  will  pass  in  a  few 
hours."  With  that,  he  took  both  horses  and, 
without  further  words  or  any  salutation,  rode 
off  by  the  way  that  we  had  come. 

Three  hours  afterwards,  I  was  seated  on  the 
end  platform  of  the  train  as  it  swept  eastward 
through  the  gorges  and  thundered  in  tunnels  of 
the  mountain.  TheTBiange  of  scene,  the  sense 
of  escape,  the  still  throbbing  terror  of  pursuit 


THE  DESTROYIXG  ANGEL.  65 

— above  all,  the  astounding  magic  of  my  new 
conveyance,  kept  me  from  any  logical  or  mel- 
ancholy thought.     I  had  gone  to  the  doctor' s 
house  two  nights  before  prepared  to  die,  pre- 
pared for  worse  than  death  ;  what  had  passed, 
terrible  although  it  was,  looked  almost  bright 
compared  to  my  anticipations  ;  and  it  was  not 
till  I  had  slept  a  full  night  in  the  flying  palace 
car,  that  I  awoke  to  the  sense  of  my  irrepara- 
ble loss  and   to  some  reasonable  alarm  about 
the  future.     In  this  mood,  I  examined  the  con- 
tents of  the  bag.      It  was  well  supplied  with 
gold  ;  it  contained  tickets  and  complete  direc- 
tions for  my  journey  as  far  as  Liverpool,  and  a 
long  letter  from  the  doctor,  supplying  me  with 
a  fictitious  name  and  story,  recommending  the 
most  guarded  silence,  and  bidding  me  to  await 
faithfully  the  coming  of  his  son.     All  then  had 
been  arranged  beforehand  :    he  had   counted 
upon  my  consent,  and  what  was  tenfold  worse, 
upon  my  mother's  voluntary  death.     My  hor- 
ror of  my  only  friend,  my  aversion  for  this  son 
who  was  to  marry  me,  my  revolt  against  the 
whole  current  and  conditions  of  my  life,  were 
now  complete.     I  was  sitting  stupefied  by  my 
distress  and  helplessness,  when  to  my  J^y,  a 
very  pleasant  lady  oiTered  me  her  conversation. 
I  clutched  at  the  relief  ;  and  I  was  soon  glibly 
telling  her  the  story  in  the  doctor's  letter  :  how 
I  was  a  Miss  Gould,  of  Nevada  City,  going  to 


6 6  THE  DESTRO  YIA TG  A XGEL. 

England  to  an  uncle,  what  money  I  had,  what 
family,  my  age,  and  so  forth,  until  I  had 
exhausted  my  instructions,  and  as  the  lady 
still  continued  to  ply  me  with  questions,  began 
to  embroider  on  my  own  account.  This  soon 
carried  one  of  my  inexperience  beyond  her 
depth  ;  and  I  had  already  remarked  a  shadow 
on  the  lady's  face,  when  a  gentleman  drew 
near  and  very  civilly  addressed  me  : 

"Miss  Gould,  I  believe?"  said  he;  and 
then,  excusing  himself  to  the  lady  by  the 
authority  of  my  guardian,  drew  me  to  the  fore 
platform  of  the  Pullman  car.  "  Miss  Gould," 
he  said  in  my  ear,  "is  it  possible  that  you  sup- 
pose yourself  in  safety  ?  Let  me  completely 
undeceive  you.  One  more  such  indiscretion 
and  you  return  to  Utah.  And,  in  the  mean- 
while, if  this  woman  should  again  address  you, 
you  are  to  reply  with  these  words  :  '  Madam, 
I  do  not  like  you,  and  I  will  be  obliged  if  you 
will  surfer  me  to  choose  my  own  associates/  " 

Alas,  I  had  to  do  as  I  was  bid  ;  this  lady,  to 
wdiom  I  already  felt  myself  drawn  with  the 
strongest  cords  of  sympathy,  I  dismissed  with 
insult ;  and  thenceforward,  through  all  that 
day  I  sat  in  silence,  gazing  on  the  bare- plains 
and  swallowing  my  tears.  Let  that  suffice  :  it 
was  the  pattern  of  my  journey.  Whether  on 
the  train,  at  the  hotels,  or  on  board  the  ocean 
steamer,  I  never  exchanged  a  friendly  word 


THE  DESTROY  'ING  A  NGEL.  6  7 

with  any  fellow-traveler  but  I  was  certain  to 
be  interrupted.  In  every  place,  on  every  side, 
tlie  most  unlikely  persons,  man  or  woman, 
rich  or  poor,  became  protectors  to  forward  me 
upon  my  journey  or  spies  to  observe  and  regu- 
late my  conduct.  Thus  I  crossed  the  States, 
thus  passed  the  ocean,  the  Mormon  Eye  still 
following  my  movements  ;  and  when  at  length 
a  cab  had  set  me  down  before  that  London 
lodging-house  from  which  you  saw  me  fleeing 
this  morning,  I  had  already  ceased  to  struggle 
and  ceased  to  hope. 

The  landlady,  like  every  one  else  through  all 
that  journey,  was  expecting  my  arrival.  A  fire 
was  lighted  in  my  room,  which  looked  upon  the 
garden  ;  there  were  books  on  the  table,  clothes 
in  the  drawers  ;  and  there  (I  had  almost  said 
with  contentment,  and  certainly  with  resigna- 
tion) I  saw  month  follow  month  over  my  head. 
At  times  my  landlady  took  me  for  a  walk  or  an 
excursion,  but  she  would  never  suffer  me  to 
leave  the  house  alone  ;  and  I,  seeing  that  she 
also  lived  under  the  shadow  of  that  widespread 
Mormon  terror,  felt  too  much  pity  to  resist. 
To  the  child  born  on  Mormon  soil,  as  to  the 
man  who  accepts  the  engagements  of  a  secret 
order,  no  escape  is  possible ;  so  I  had  clearly 
read,  and  I  was  thankful  even  for  this  respite. 
Meanwhile,  I  tried  honestly  to  prepare  my  mind 
for  my  approaching  nuptials.     The  day  drew 


68  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

near  when  my  bridegroom  was  to  visit  me,  and 
gratitude  and  fear  alike  obliged  me  to  consent. 
A  son  of  Doctor  Grierson's,  be  lie  what  he 
pleased,  must  still  be  young,  and  it  was  even 
probable  he  should  be  handsome  ;  on  more  than 
that,  I  felt  I  dared  not  reckon  ;  and  in  molding 
my  mind  toward  consent  I  dwelt  the  more  care- 
fully on  these  physical  attractions  which  I  felt 
I  might  expect,  and  averted  my  eyes  from  moral 
or  intellectual  considerations.  We  have  a  great 
power  upon  our  spirits  ;  and  as  time  passed  I 
worked  myself  into  a  frame  of  acquiescence, 
nay,  and  I  began  to  grow  impatient  for  the  hour. 
At  night  sleep  forsook  me  ;  I  sat  all  day  by  the 
fire,  absorbed  in  dreams,  conjuring  up  the  feat- 
ures of  my  husband,  and  anticipating  in  fancy 
the  touch  of  his  hand  and  the  sound  of  his 
voice.  In  the  dead  level  and  solitude  of  my 
existence,  this  was  the  one  eastern  window  and 
the  one  door  of  hope.  At  last,  I  had  so  culti- 
vated and  prepared  my  will,  that  I  began  to  be 
besieged  with  fears  upon  the  other  side.  How 
if  it  was  I  that  did  not  please  3  How  if  this 
unseen  lover  should  turn  from  me  with  dis- 
affection ?  And  now  I  spent  hours  before  the 
glass,  studying  and  judging  my  attractions,  and 
was  never  weary  of  changing  my  dress  or  order- 
ing my  hair. 

When  the  day  came  I  was  long  about  my 
toilet ;  but  at  last,  with  a  sort  of  hopeful  des- 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  69 

peration,  I  had  to  own  that  I  could  do  no  more, 
and  must  now  stand  or  fall  by  nature.  My 
occupation  ended,  I  fell  a  prey  to  the  most 
sickening  impatience,  mingled  with  alarms ; 
giving  ear  to  the  swelling  rumor  of  the  streets, 
and  at  each  change  of  sound  or  silence,  starting, 
shrinking,  and  coloring  to  the  brow.  Love  is 
not  to  be  prepared,  I  know,  without  some 
knowledge  of  the  object ;  and  yet,  when  the 
cab  at  last  rattled  to  the  door  and  I  heard  my 
visitor  mount  the  stairs,  such  was  the  tumult 
of  hopes  in  my  poor  bosom  that  love  itself 
might  have  been  proud  to  own  their  parentage. 
The  door  opened,  and  it  was  Doctor  Grierson 
that  appeared.  I  believe  I  must  have  screamed 
aloud,  and  I  know,  at  least,  that  I  fell  fainting 
to  the  lloor. 

When  I  came  to  myself  he  was  standing  over 
me,  counting  my  pulse.  ' '  I  have  startled  you," 
he  said.  "A  difficulty  unforeseen — the  im- 
possibility of  obtaining  a  certain  drug  in  its  full 
purity — has  forced  me  to  resort  to  London  un- 
prepared. I  regret  that  I  should  have  shown 
myself  once  more  without  those  poor  attrac- 
tions which  are  much,  perhaps,  to  you,  but  to 
me  are  no  more  considerable  than  rain  that  falls 
into  the  sea.  Youth  is  but  a  state,  as  passing 
as  that  syncope  from  which  you  are  but  just 
awakened,  and,  if  there  be  truth  in  science,  as 
easy  to  recall ;  for  I  hnd,  Asenath,  that  I  must 


70  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

now  take  you  for  my  confidant.  Since  my  first 
years,  I  have  devoted  every  hour  and  act  of  life 
to  one  ambitious  task  ;  and  the  time  of  my 
success  is  at  hand.  In  these  new  countries, 
where  I  was  so  long  content  to  stay,  I  collected 
indispensable  ingredients  ;  I  have  fortified 
myself  on  every  side  from  the  possibility  of 
error  ;  what  was  a  dream  now  takes  the  sub- 
stance of  reality  ;  and  when  I  offered  you  a  son 
of  mine  I  did  so  in  a  figure.  That  son — that 
husband,  Asenath,  is  myself— not  as  you  now 
behold  me,  but  restored  to  the  first  energy  of 
youth.  You  think  me  mad?  It  is  the  cus- 
tomary attitude  of  ignorance.  I  will  not  argue  ; 
I  will  leave  facts  to  speak.  When  you  behold 
me  purified,  invigorated,  renewed,  restamped 
in  the  original  image— when  you  recognize  in 
me  (what  I  shall  be)  the  first  perfect  expression 
of  the  powers  of  mankind — I  shall  be  able  to 
laugh  with  a  better  grace  at  your  passing  and 
natural  incredulity.  To  what  can  you  aspire 
— fame,  riches,  power,  the  charm  of  youth,  the 
dear-bought  wisdom  of  age — that  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  afford  you  in  perfection  \  Do  not  de- 
ceive yourself.  I  already  excel  you  in  every 
human  gift  but  one  :  when  that  gift  also  has 
been  restored  to  me  you  will  recognize  your 
master." 

Hereupon,  consulting  his  watch,  he  told  me 
he  must  now  leave  me  to  myself  ;  and  bidding 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  71 

me  consult  reason,  and  not  girlish  fancies,  he 
withdrew.  I  had  not  the  courage  to  move  ;  the 
night  fell  and  found  me  still  where  he  had  laid 
me  during  my  faint,  my  face  buried  in  my 
hands,  my  soul  drowned  in  the  darkest  appre- 
hensions. Late  in  the  evening  he  returned, 
carrying  a  candle,  and,  with  a  certain  irritable 
tremor,  bade  me  rise  and  sup.  ' '  Is  it  possible," 
he  added,  "  that  I  have  been  deceived  in  your 
courage  \  A  cowardly  girl  is  no  lit  mate  for 
me." 

I  flung  myself  before  him  on  my  knees,  and 
with  floods  of  tears  besought  him  to  release  me 
from  this  engagement,  assuring  him  that  my 
cowardice  was  abject,  and  that  in  every  point 
of  intellect  and  character  I  was  his  hopeless  and 
derisible  inferior. 

"Why,  certainly,"  he  replied.  "I  know 
you  better  than  yourself  ;  and  I  am  well  enough 
acquainted  with  human  nature  to  understand 
this  scene.  It  is  addressed  to  me,"  he  added 
with  a  smile,  "in  my  character  of  the  still 
untransformed.  But  do  not  alarm  yourself 
about  the  future.  Let  me  but  attain  my  end, 
and  not  you  only,  Asenath,  but  every  woman 
on  the  face  of  the  earth  becomes  my  willing 
slave." 

Thereupon  he  obliged  me  to  rise  and  eat ;  sat 
down  with  me  to  table  ;  helped  and  entertained 
me  with  the  attentions  of  a  fashionable  host ; 


72  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

and  it  was  not  till  a  late  hour,  that,  bidding  me 
courteously  good-night,  he  once  more  left  me 
alone  to  my  misery. 

In  all  this  talk  of  an  elixir  and  the  restora- 
tion of  his  youth,  I  scarce  knew  from  which 
hypothesis  I  should  the  more  eagerly  recoil. 
If  his  hopes  reposed  on  any  base  of  fact,  if 
indeed,  by  some  abhorrent  miracle,  he  should 
discard  his  age,  death  were  my  only  refuge 
from  that  most  unnatural,  that  most  ungodly 
union.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  these  dreams 
were  merely  lunatic,  the  madness  of  a  life  waxed 
suddenly  acute,  my  pity  would  become  a  load 
almost  as  heavy  to  bear  as  my  revolt  against 
the  marriage.  So  passed  the  night,  in  alter- 
nations of  rebellion  and  despair,  of  hate  and 
pity  ;  and  with  the  next  morning  I  was  only  to 
comprehend  more  fully  my  enslaved  position. 
For  though  he  appeared  with  a  very  tranquil 
countenance,  he  had  no  sooner  observed  the 
marks  of  grief  upon  my  brow  than  an  answer- 
ing darkness  gathered  on  his  own.  ' '  Asenath, ' ' 
he  said,  "  you  owe  me  much  already  ;  with  one 
ringer  I  still  hold  you  suspended  over  death  ; 
my  life  is  full  of  labor  and  anxiety ;  and  I 
choose,"  said  he,  with  a  remarkable  accent  of 
command,  "that  you  shall  greet  me  with  a 
pleasant  face."  He  never  needed  to  repeat  the 
recommendation  ;  from  that  day  forward  I  was 
always  ready  to  receive  him  with  apparent 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  73 

cheerfulness  ;  and  lie  rewarded  me  with,  a  good 
deal  of  his  company,  and  almost  more  than  I 
could  bear  of  his  confidence.  He  had  set  up  a 
laboratory  in  the  back  jiart  of  the  house,  where 
he  toiled  day  and  night  at  his  elixir,  and  he 
would  come  thence  to  visit  me  in  my  parlor  ; 
now  with  passing  humors  of  discouragement ; 
now,  and  far  more  often,  radiant  with  hope.  It 
was  impossible  to  see  so  much  of  him,  and  not 
to  recognize  that  the  sands  of  his  life  were  run- 
ning low ;  and  yet  all  the  time  he  would  be 
laying  out  vast  fields  of  future,  and  planning, 
with  all  the  confidence  of  youth,  the  most 
unbounded  schemes  of  pleasure  and  ambition. 
How  I  replied  I  know  not ;  but  I  found  a  voice 
and  words  to  answer,  even  while  I  wept  and 
raged  to  hear  him. 

A  week  ago  the  doctor  entered  my  room  with 
the  marks  of  great  exhilaration  contending  with 
pitiful  bodily  weakness.  "  Asenath,"  said  he, 
" 1  have  now  obtained  the  last  ingredient.  In 
one  week  from  now  the  perilous  moment  of  the 
last  projection  will  draw  nigh.  You  have  once 
before  assisted,  although  unconsciously,  at  the 
failure  of  a  similar  experiment.  It  was  the 
elixir  which  so  terribly  exploded  one  night 
when  you  were  passing  my  house  ;  and  it  is 
idle  to  deny  that  the  conduct  of  so  delicate  a 
process,  among  the  million  jars  and  trepidations 
of  so  great  a  city,  presents  a  certain  element  of 


74  THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL. 

danger.  From  this  point  of  view,  I  can  not  bnt 
regret  the  perfect  stillness  of  my  house  among 
the  deserts  ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  proving  that  the  singularly  unstable 
equilibrium  of  the  elixir,  at  the  moment  of  pro- 
jection, is  due  rather  to  the  impurity  than  to 
the  nature  of  the  ingredients  ;  and  as  all  are 
now  of  an  equal  and  exquisite  nicety,  I  have 
little  fear  for  the  result.  In  a  week  then  from 
to-day,  my  dear  Asenath,  this  period  of  trial 
will  be  ended."  And  he  smiled  upon  me  in  a 
manner  unusually  paternal. 

I  smiled  back  with  my  lips,  but  at  my  heart 
there  raged  the  blackest  and  most  unbridled 
terror.  What  if  he  failed  %  And  oh,  tenfold 
worse  !  what  if  he  succeeded  %  What  detested 
and  unnatural  changeling  would  appear  to 
claim  my  hand?  And  could  there,  I  asked 
myself  with  a  dreadful  sinking,  be  any  truth  in 
his  boasts  of  an  assured  victory  over  my  reluc- 
tance \  I  knew  him,  indeed,  to  be  masterful,  to 
lead  my  life  at  a  sign.  Suppose,  then,  this 
experiment  to  succeed ;  suppose  him  to 
return  to  me,  hideously  restored,  like  a  vam- 
pire in  a  legend  ;  and  suppose  that,  by  some 
devilish  fascination  .  .  .  My  head  turned  ;  all 
former  fears  deserted  me ;  and  I  felt  I  could 
embrace  the  worst  in  preference  to  this. 

My  mind  was  instantly  made  up.  The  doc- 
tor's presence  in  London  was  justified  by  the 


THE  DESTROYING  ANGEL.  75 

affairs  of  the  Mormon  polity.  Often  in  our 
conversation,  he  would  gloat  over  the  details  of 
that  great  organization,  which  he  feared  even 
while  yet  he  wielded  it ;  and  would  remind  me, 
that  even  in  the  humming  labyrinth  of  London, 
we  were  still  visible  to  that  unsleeping  eye  in 
Utah.  His  visitors,  indeed,  who  were  of  every 
sort,  from  the  missionary  to  the  destroying  angel, 
and  seemed  to  belong  to  every  rank  of  life,  had, 
up  to  that  moment,  filled  me  with  unmixed 
repulsion  and  alarm.  I  knew  that  if  my  secret 
were  to  reach  the  ear  of  any  leader  my  fate 
were  sealed  beyond  redemption ;  and  yet  in  my 
present  pass  of  horror  and  despair,  it  was  to 
these  very  men  that  I  turned  for  help.  I  way- 
laid upon  the  stair  one  of  the  Mormon  mission- 
aries, a  man  of  a  low  class,  but  not  inaccessible 
to  pity  ;  told  him  I  scarce  remember  what  elab- 
orate fable  to  explain  my  application ;  and  by 
his  intermediacy  entered  into  correspondence 
with  my  father's  family.  They  recognized  my 
claim  for  help,  and  on  this  very  day  I  was  to 
begin  my  escape. 

Last  night  I  sat  up  fully  dressed,  awaiting 
the  result  of  the  doctor1  s  labors,  and  prepared 
against  the  worst.  The  nights  at  this  season 
and  in  this  northern  latitude  are  short ;  and  I 
had  soon  the  company  of  the  returning  daylight. 
The  silence  in  and  around  the  house  was  only 
broken  by  the  movements  of  the  doctor  in  the 


-]6  THE  DESTROY  1XG  AXGEL. 

laboratory  ;  to  these  I  listened,  watch  in  hand, 
awaiting  the  hour  of  my  escape,  and  yet  con- 
sumed by  anxiety  about  the  strange  experiment 
that  was  going  forward  overhead.  Indeed,  now 
that  I  was  conscious  of  some  protection  for 
myself,  my  sympathies  had  turned  more 
directly  to  the  doctor's  side;  I  caught  myself 
even  praying  for  his  success  ;  and  when  some 
hours  ago  a  low,  peculiar  cry  reached  my  ears 
from  the  laboratory,  I  could  no  longer  control 
my  impatience,  but  mounted  the  stairs  and 
opened  the  door. 

The  doctor  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  ;  in  his  hand  a  large,  round-bellied,  crys- 
tal flask,  some  three  parts  full  of  a  bright 
amber-colored  liquid  ;  on  his  face  a  rapture  of 
gratitude  and  joy  unspeakable.  As  he  saw  me 
he  raised  the  flask  at  arm's  length.  "Victory!" 
he  cried.  "  Victory,  Asenath  !  "  And  then— 
whether  the  flask  escaped  his  trembling  fingers, 
or  whether  the  explosion  was  spontaneous,  I 
can  not  tell— enough  that  we  were  thrown,  I 
against  the  door-post,  the  doctor  into  the  cor- 
ner of  the  room  ;  enough  that  we  were  shaken 
to  the  soul  by  the  same  explosion  that  must 
have  startled  you  upon  the  street ;  and  that,  in 
the  brief  space  of  an  indistinguishable  instant, 
there  remained  nothing  of  the  labors  of  the 
doctor's  lifetime  but  a  few  shards  of  broken 
crystal  and  those  voluminous  and  ill-smelling 
vapors  that  pursued  me  in  my  flight. 


THE  SQ  C  TIRE  O  F  DA  ME  S.  7  7 

THE  SQ  UIRE  OF  DAMES  (concluded). 

TTTHAT  with  the  lady's  animated  manner 
V  V  and  dramatic  conduct  of  her  voice, 
Challoner  had  thrilled  to  every  incident  with 
genuine  emotion.  His  fancy,  which  was  not 
perhaps  of  a  very  lively  character,  applauded 
both  the  matter  and  the  style  ;  but  the  more 
judicial  functions  of  his  mind  refused  assent. 
It  was  an  excellent  story  ;  and  it  might  be  true, 
but  he  believed  it  was  not.  Miss  Fonblanque 
was  a  lady,  and  it  was  doubtless  possible  for  a 
lady  to  wander  from  the  truth  ;  but  how  was  a 
gentleman  to  tell  her  so  %  His  spirits  for  some 
time  had  been  sinking,  but  they  now  fell  to 
zero  ;  and  long  after  her  voice  had  died  away 
he  still  sat  with  a  troubled  and  averted  counte- 
nance, and  could  find  no  form  of  words  to 
thank  her  for  her  narrative.  His  mind,  indeed, 
was  empty  of  every  thing  beyond  a  dull  long- 
ing for  escape.  From  this  pause,  which  grew 
more  embarrassing  with  every  second,  he  was 
roused  by  the  sudden  laughter  01  the  lady. 
His  vanity  was  alarmed  ;  he  turned  and  faced 
her  ;  their  eyes  met ;  and  he  caught  from  hers 
a  spark  of  such  frank  merriment  as  put  him 
instantly  at  ease. 

"  You  certainly,"   he  said,  ''appear  to  bear 
your  calamities  with  excellent  spirit." 

"Do  I  not?"  she  cried,  and  fell  once  more 


78  7  'HE  SQ I  'IRE  OF  DA  ME  S. 

into  delicious  laughter.  But  from  this  access 
she  more  speedily  recovered.  "  This  is  all  very 
well,"  said  she,  nodding  at  him  gravely,  "but 
I  am  still  in  a  most  distressing  situation,  from 
which,  if  you  deny  me  your  help,  I  shall  find 
it  difficult  indeed  to  free  myself." 

At  this  mention  of  help  Challoner  fell  back 
to  his  original  gloom. 

"My  sympathies  are  much  engaged  with 
you,"  he  said,  "and  I  should  be  delighted,  I 
am  sure.  But  our  position  is  most  unusual ; 
and  circumstances  over  which  I  have,  I  can 
assure  you,  no  control,  deprive  me  of  the 
power  —  the  pleasure  —  unless,  indeed,"  he 
added,  somewhat  brightening  at  the  thought, 
' '  I  were  to  recommend  you  to  the  care  of  the 
police?" 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm  and  looked 
hard  into  his  eyes  ;  and  he  saw  with  wonder' 
that,  for  the  first  time  since  the  moment  of 
their  meeting,  every  trace  of  color  had  faded 
from  her  cheek. 

"Do  so,"  she  said,  "and — weigh  my  words 
well — you  kill  me  as  certainly  as  with  a  knife." 

"  God  bless  me  !  "  exclaimed  Challoner. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "I  can  see  you  disbelieve 
my  story  and  make  light  of  the  perils  that  sur- 
round me  ;  but  who  are  you  to  judge  \  My 
family  share  my  apprehensions  ;  they  help  me 
in  secret ;  and  you  saw  yourself  by  what  an 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  79 

emissary,  and  in  what  a  place,  they  have  chosen 
to  supply  me  with  the  funds  for  my  escape.  I 
admit  that  you  are  brave  and  clever  and  have 
impressed  me  most  favorably  ;  but  how  are 
you  to  prefer  your  opinion  before  that  of  my 
uncle,  an  ex-minister  of  state,  a  man  with  the 
ear  of  the  Queen,  and  of  a  long  political  experi- 
ence? If  I  am  mad,  is  he?  And  you  must 
allow  me,  besides,  a  special  claim  upon  your 
help.  Strange  as  you  may  think  my  story, 
you  know  that  much  of  it  is  true  ;  and  if  you 
who  heard  the  explosion  and  saw  the  Mormon 
at  Victoria,  refuse  to  credit  and  assist  me,  to 
whom  am  I  to  turn  \ ' ' 

"He  gave  you  money  then?"  asked  Chal- 
loner,  who  had  been  dwelling  singly  on  that 
fact. 

' '  I  begin  to  interest  you, "  she  cried.  ' '  But, 
frankly,  you  are  condemned  to  help  me.  If 
the  service  I  had  to  ask  of  you  were  serious, 
were  suspicious,  were  even  unusual,  I  should 
say  no  more.  But  what  is  it  1  To  take  a  pleas- 
ure trip  (for  which,  if  you  will  suffer  me,  I 
propose  to  pay)  and  to  carry  from  one  lady  to 
another  a  sum  of  money  !  What  can  be  more 
simple  % ' ' 

"  Is  the  sum,"  asked  Challoner,  "  consider- 
able 3 " 

She  produced  a  packet  from  her  bosom  ;  and 
observing  that  she  had  not  yet  found  time  to 


80  THE  SQUIRE  OE  DAMES. 

make  the  count,  tore  open  the  cover  and  spread 
upon  her  knees  a  considerable  number  of  Bank 
of  England  notes.  It  took  some  time  to  make 
the  reckoning,  for  the  notes  were  of  every 
degree  of  value  ;  but  at  last,  and  counting  a 
few  loose  sovereigns,  she  made  out  the  sum  to 
be  a  little  under  7107.  sterling.  The  sight  of  so 
much  money  worked  an  immediate  revolution 
in  the  mind  of  Challoner. 

"  And  you  propose,  madam,"  he  cried,  "to 
intrust  that  money  to  a  perfect  stranger  \ " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  she  with  a  charming  smile,  "  but 
I  no  longer  regard  you  as  a  stranger." 

' '  Madam, ' '  said  Challoner,  ' '  I  perceive  I  must 
make  you  a  confession.  Although  of  a  very 
good  family — through  my  mother,  indeed,  a 
lineal  descendant  of  the  patriot  Bruce — I  dare 
not  conceal  from  you  that  my  affairs  are  deeply, 
very  deeply  involved.  I  am  in  debt,  my  pock- 
ets are  practically  empty  ;  and,  in  short,  I  am 
fallen  to  that  state  when  a  considerable  sum  of 
money  would  prove  to  many  men  an  irresistible 
temptation." 

"  Do  you  not  see,"  returned  the  young  lady, 
"that  by  these  words  you  have  removed  my 
last  hesitation  %  Take  them."  And  she  thrust 
the  notes  into  the  young  man's  hand. 

He  sat  so  long,  holding  them,  like  a  baby  at 
the  font,  that  Miss  Fonblanque  once  more  bub- 
bled into  laughter. 


1  *HE  SQ  UIRE  OF  DA  M  /■:  5.  S I 

"Pray,"  she  said,  "hesitate  no  further ;  put 
them  in  your  pocket ;  and  to  relieve  our  posi- 
tion of  a  shadow  of  embarrassment,  tell  me  by 
what  name  I  am  to  address  my  knight-errant, 
for  I  find  myself  reduced  to  the  awkwardness 
of  the  pronoun."    „ 

Had  borrowing  been  in  question,  the  wisdom 
of  our  ancestors  had  come  lightly  to  the  young 
man's  aid  ;  but,  upon  what  pretext  could  he 
refuse  so  generous  a  trust  %  Upon  none,  he  saw, 
that  was  not  unpardonably  wounding  ;  and  the 
bright  eyes  and  the  high  spirits  of  his  compan- 
ion had  already  made  a  breach  in  the  rampart 
of  Challoner's  caution.  The  whole  thing,  he 
reasoned,  might  be  a  mere  mystification,  which 
it  were  the  height  of  solemn  folly  to  resent.  On 
the  other  hand  the  explosion,  the  interview  at 
the  public-house,  and  the  very  money  in  his 
hands,  seemed  to  prove  beyond  denial  the  exist- 
ence of  some  serious  danger  ;  and  if  that  were 
so,  could  he  desert  her  ?  There  was  a  choice  of 
risks  :  the  risk  of  behaving  with  extraordinary 
incivility  and  unhandsomeness  to  a  lady,  and 
the  risk  of  going  on  a  fool's  errand.  The  story 
seemed  false  ;  but  then  the  money  was  undeni- 
able. The  whole  circumstances  were  question- 
able and  obscure  ;  but  the  lady  was  charming, 
and  had  the  speech  and  manners  of  society. 
While  he  still  hung  in  the  wind,  a  recollection 
returned  upon  his  mind  with  some  of  the  dig- 


82  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

nity  of  prophecy.  Had  lie  not  promised  Som- 
erset to  break  with  the  traditions  of  the  com- 
monplace, and  to  accept  the  first  adventure 
offered  \     Well,  here  was  the  adventure. 

He  thrust  the  money  into  his  pocket. 

"  My  name  is  Challoner,"  said  he. 

"Mr.  Challoner,"  she  replied,  "  you  have 
come  very  generously  to  my  aid  when  all  was 
against  me.  Though  I  am  myself  a  very  hum- 
ble person,  my  family  commands  great  interest ; 
and  I  do  not  think  you  will  repent  this  hand- 
some action." 

Challoner  flushed  with  pleasure. 

"  I  imagine  that,  perhaps,  a  consulship,"  she 
added,  her  eyes  dwelling  on  him  with  a  judi- 
cial admiration,  "a  consulship  in  some  great 
toAvn  or  capital — or  else —  But  we  waste  time  ; 
let  us  set  about  the  work  of  my  delivery." 

She  took  his  arm  with  a  frank  confidence  that 
went  to  his  heart ;  and  once  more  laying  by  all 
serious  thoughts,  she  entertained  him,  as 
they  crossed  the  park,  with  her  agreeable 
gayety  of  mind.  Near  the  Marble  Arch  they 
found  a  hansom,  which  rapidly  conveyed  them 
to  the  terminus  at  Euston  Square  ;  and  here, 
in  the  hotel,  they  sat  down  to  an  excellent 
breakfast.  The  young  lady's  first  step  was  to 
call  for  writing  materials  and  write,  upon  one 
corner  of  the  table,  a  hasty  note  ;  still,  as  she 
did  so,  glancing  with  smiles  at  her  companion. 


THE  SQUIRE  OE  DAMES.  83 

"Here,"  said  she,  "here  is  the  letter  which 
will  introduce  you  to  my  cousin."  She  began 
to  fold  the  paper.  "My  cousin,  although  I 
have  never  seen  her,  has  the  character  of  a  very 
charming  woman  and  a  recognized  beauty  ;  of 
that  I  know  nothing,  but  at  least  she  has  been 
very  kind  to  me  ;  so  has  my  lord  her  father  ; 
so  have  you — kinder  than  all — kinder  than  I 
can  bear  to  think  of. ' '  She  said  this  with  un- 
usual emotion  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  sealed 
the  envelope.  ' '  Ah  ! ' '  she  cried,  ' '  I  have  shut 
my  letter  !  It  is  not  quite  courteous  :  and  yet, 
as  between  friends,  it  is  perhaps  better  so.  I 
introduce  you,  after  all,  into  a  family  secret ; 
and  though  you  and  I  are  already  old  com- 
rades, you  are  still  unknown  to  my  uncle. 
You  go,  then,  to  this  address,  Richard  Street, 
Glasgow  ;  go,  please,  as  soon  as  you  arrive  ; 
and  give  this  letter  with  your  own  hands  into 
those  of  Miss  Fonblanque,  for  that  is  the  name 
by  which  she  is  to  pass.  When  we  next  meet, 
you  will  tell  me  what  you  think  of  her,"  she 
added,  with  a  touch  of  the  provocative. 

"Ah,"  said  Challoner,  almost  tenderly, 
"  she  can  be  nothing  to  me." 

"You  do  not  know,"  replied  the  young  lady 
with  a  sigh.  "By  the  by,  I  had  forgotten — 
it  is  very  childish,  and  I  am  almost  ashamed 
to  mention  it— but  when  you  see  Miss  Fon- 
blanque, you  will  have  to  make  yourself  a  little 


84  THE  SQUIRE  OE  DAMES. 

ridiculous  ;  and  I  am  sure  the  part  in  no  way 
suits  you.  We  had  agreed  upon  a  watchword. 
You  will  have  to  address  an  earl's  daughter  in 
these  words  :  '  Nigger,  n  igger,  never  die  ;  ' 
but  reassure  yourself,"  she  added,  laughing, 
"for  the  fair  patrician  will  at  once  finish  the 
quotation.     Come  now,  say  your  lesson." 

"' Nigger,  nigger,  never  die,'"  repeated 
Challoner,  with  undisguised  reluctance. 

Miss  Fonblanque  went  into  fits  of  laughter. 
"Excellent,"  said  she,  "it  will  be  the  most 
humorous  scene."     And  she  laughed  again. 

"And  what  will  be  the  counterword  \ "  asked 
Challoner,  stiffly. 

"  I  will  not  tell  you  till  the  last  moment," 
said  she  ;  "  for  I  perceive  you  are  growing  too 
imperious." 

Breakfast  over,  she  accompanied  the  young 
man  to  the  platform, bought  him  the  '  'Graphic, ' ' 
the  "Athenaeum,"  and  a  paper-cutter,  and 
stood  on  the  step  conversing  till  the  whistle 
sounded.  Then  she  put  her  head  into  the  car- 
riage. 'Blackface  and  shining  eye!'  she 
whispered,  and  instantly  leaped  down  upon 
the  platform,  with  a  trill  of  gay  and  musical 
laughter.  As  the  train  steamed  out  of  the 
great  arch  of  glass,  the  sound  of  that  laughter 
still  rang  in  the  young  man's  ears. 

Challoner' s  position  was  too  unusual  to  be 
long  welcome  to  his  mind.     He  found  himself 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  85 

projected  the  whole  length  of  England,  on  a 
mission  beset  with  obscure  and  ridiculous  cir- 
cumstances, and  yet,  by  the  trust  he  had 
accepted,  irrevocably  bound  to  persevere.  How 
easy  it  appeared,  in  the  retrospect,  to  have 
refused  the  whole  proposal,  returned  the 
money,  and  gone  forth  again  upon  his  own 
affairs,  a  free  and  happy  man  !  And  it  was 
now  impossible  :  the  enchantress  who  had  held 
him  with  her  eye  had  now  disappeared,  taking 
his  honor  in  pledge  ;  and  as  she  had  failed  to 
leave  him  an  address,  he  was  denied  even  the 
inglorious  safety  of  retreat.  To  use  the  paper- 
knife,  or  even  to  read  the  periodicals  with 
which  she  had  presented  him,  was  to  renew  the 
bitterness  of  his  remorse  ;  and  as  he  was  alone 
in  the  compartment,  he  passed  the  day  staring 
at  the  landscape  in  impotent  repentance,  and 
long  before  he  was  landed  on  the  platform  of 
St.  Enoch's,  had  fallen  to  the  lowest  and 
coldest  zones  of  self -contempt. 

As  he  was  hungry,  and  elegant  in  his  habits, 
he  would  have  preferred  to  dine  and  to  remove 
the  stains  of  travel ;  but  the  words  of  the 
young  lady,  and  his  own  impatient  eagerness, 
would  suffer  no  delay.  In  the  late,  luminous 
and  lamp-starred  dusk  of  the  summer  evening, 
he  accordingly  set  forward  with  brisk  steps. 

The  street  to  which  he  was  directed  had  first 
seen  the  day  in  the  character  of  a  row  of  small 


86  THE  SOU  I  RE  OE  DAMES. 

suburban  villas  on  a  hillside  ;  but  the  extension 
of  tlie  city  had,  long  since  and  on  every  hand, 
surrounded  it  with  miles  of  streets.  From  the 
top  of  the  hill  a  range  of  very  tall  buildings, 
densely  inhabited  by  the  very  poorest  classes 
of  the  population  and  variegated  by  drying- 
poles  from  every  second  window,  overplumbed 
the  villas  and  their  little  gardens  like  a  sea- 
board cliff.  But  still,  under  the  grime  of  years 
of  city  smoke,  these  antiquated  cottages,  with 
their  Venetian  blinds  and  rural  porticos,  re- 
tained a  somewhat  melancholy  savor  of  the 
past. 

The  street,  when  Challoner  entered  it,  was 
perfectly  deserted.  From  hard  by,  indeed,  the 
sound  of  a  thousand  footfalls  rilled  the  ear  ; 
but  in  Richard  Street  itself  there  was  neither 
light  nor  sound  of  human  habitation.  The 
appearance  of  the  neighborhood  weighed  heav- 
ily on  the  mind  of  the  young  man  ;  once  more, 
as  in  the  streets  of  London,  he  was  impressed 
with  the  sense  of  city  deserts  ;  and  as  he  ap- 
proached the  number  indicated,  and  somewhat 
falteringly  rang  the  bell,  his  heart  sank  within 
him. 

The  bell  was  ancient,  like  the  house  ;  it  had 
a  thin  and  garrulous  note  ;  and  it  was  some 
time  before  it  ceased  to  sound  from  the  rear 
quarters  of  the  building.  Following  upon  this 
an  inner  door  was  stealthily  opened,  and  care- 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  87 

ful  and  catlike  steps  drew  near  along  the  hall. 
Challoner,  supposing  he  was  to  be  instantly 
admitted,  produced  his  letter  and,  as  well  as  he 
was  able,  prepared  a  smiling  face.  To  his 
indescribable  surprise,  however,  the  footsteps 
ceased,  and  then,  after  a  pause  and  with  the 
like  steal thiness,  withdrew  once  more,  and  died 
away  in  the  interior  of  the  house.  A  second 
time  the  young  man  rang  violently  at  the  bell ; 
a  second  time,  to  his  keen  hearkening,  a  certain 
bustle  of  discreet  footing  moved  upon  the  hol- 
low boards  of  the  old  villa  ;  and  again  the 
faint-hearted  garrison  only  drew  near  to  retreat. 
The  cup  of  the  visitor's  endurance  was  now  full 
to  overflowing ;  and,  committing  the  whole 
family  of  Fonblanque  to  every  mood  and  shade 
of  condemnation,  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and 
redescended  the  steps.  Perhaps  the  mover  in 
the  house  was  watching  from  a  window,  and 
plucked  up  courage  at  the  sight  of  this  desist- 
ance ;  or  perhaps,  where  he  lurked  trembling 
in  the  back  part  of  the  villa,  reason  in  its  own 
right  had  conquered  his  alarms.  Challoner,  at 
least,  had  scarce  set  foot  upon  the  pavement 
when  he  was  arrested  by  the  sound  of  the  with- 
drawal of  an  inner  bolt ;  one  followed  another 
rattling  in  their  sockets  ;  the  key  turned  harshly 
in  the  lock  ;  the  door  opened  ;  and  there 
appeared  upon  the  threshold  a  man  of  a  very 
stalwart  figure  in  his  shirt  sleeves.     He  was  a 


88  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

person  neither  of  great  manly  beauty  nor  of  a 
refined  exterior ;  lie  was  not  the  man  in  ordi 
nary  moods,  to  attract  the  eyes  of  the  observer  ; 
but  as  he  now  stood  in  the  doorway,  he  was 
marked  so  legibly  with  the  extreme  passion  of 
terror  that  Challoner  stood  wonder-struck.  For 
a  fraction  of  a  minute  they  gazed  upon  each 
other  in  silence  ;  and  then,  the  man  of  the 
house,  with  ashen  lips  and  gasping  voice, 
inquired  the  business  of  his  visitor.  Challoner 
replied,  in  tones  from  which  he  strove  to  ban- 
ish his  surprise,  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  a  let- 
ter to  a  certain  Miss  Fonblanque.  At  this  name, 
as  at  a  talisman,  the  man  fell  back  and  im- 
patiently invited  him  to  enter  ;  and  no  sooner 
had  the  adventurer  crossed  the  threshold,  than 
the  door  was  closed  behind  him  and  his  retreat 
cut  off. 

It  was  already  long  past  eight  at  night ;  and 
though  the  late  twilight  of  the  north  still  lin- 
gered in  the  streets,  in  the  passage  it  was  already 
groping  dark.  The  man  led  Challoner  directly 
to  a  parlor  looking  on  the  garden  to  the  back. 
Here  he  had  apparently  been  supping  :  for  by 
the  light  of  a  tallow  dip,  the  table  was  seen  to 
be  covered  with  a  napkin,  and  set  out  with  a 
quart  of  bottled  ale  and  the  heel  of  a  Gouda 
cheese.  The  room,  on  the  other  hand,  was  fur- 
nished with  faded  solidity,  and  the  Avails  were 
lined   with  scholarly  and   costlv  volumes   in 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  89 

glazed  cases.  The  house  must  have  been  taken 
furnished ;  for  it  had  no  congruity  with  this 
man  of  the  shirt  sleeves  and  the  mean  supper. 
As  for  the  earl' s  daughter,  the  earl  and  the  vis- 
ionary consulships  in  foreign  cities,  they  had 
long  ago  begun  to  fade  in  Challoner1  s  imagina- 
tion. Like  Doctor  Grierson  and  the  Mormon 
angels,  they  were  plainly  woven  of  the  stuff  of 
dreams.  Not  an  illusion  remained  to  the 
knight-errant ;  not  a  hope  was  left  him,  but  to 
be  speedily  relieved  from  this  disreputable 
business. 

The  man  had  continued  to  regard  his  visitor 
with  undisguised  anxiety,  and  began  once  more 
to  press  him  for  his  errand. 

"I  am  here,"  said  Challoner,  "simply  to  do 
a  service  between  twTo  ladies  ;  and  I  must  ask 
you,  without  further  delay,  to  summon  Miss 
Fonblanque,  into  whose  hands  alone  I  am 
authorized  to  deliver  the  letter  that  I  bear." 

A  growing  wonder  began  to  mingle  on  the 
man1  s  face  with  the  lines  of  solicitude.  ' '  I  am 
Miss  Fonblanque, ' '  he  said  ;  and  then,  perceiv- 
ing the  effect  of  this  communication,  ' '  Good 
God!"  he  cried,  "what  are  you  staring  at? 
I  tell  you,  I  am  Miss  Fonblanque." 

Seeing  the  speaker  wore  a  chin-beard  of  con- 
siderable length,  and  the  remainder  of  his  face 
was  blue  with  shaving,  Challoner  could  only 
suppose  himself  the  subject  of  a  jest.     He  was 


90  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

no  longer  under  the  spell  of  the  young  lady's 
presence  ;  and  with  men,  and  above  all  with 
his  inferiors,  he  was  capable  of  some  display  of 
spirit. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  pretty  roundly,  "I have  put 
myself  to  great  inconvenience  for  persons  of 
whom  I  know  too  little,  and  I  begin  to  be  weary 
of  the  business.  Either  you  shall  immediately 
summon  Miss  Fonblanque,  or  I  leave  this  house 
and  put  myself  under  the  direction  of  the 
police." 

' '  This  is  horrible ! ' '  exclaimed  the  man.  ' '  I 
declare  before  Heaven  I  am  the  person  meant, 
but  how  shall  I  convince  you  %  It  must  have 
been  Clara,  I  perceive,  that  sent  you  on  this 
errand — a  mad  woman,  who  jests  with  the  most 
deadly  interests  ;  and  here  we  are  incapable, 
perhaps,  of  an  agreement,  and  Heaven  knows 
what  may  depend  on  our  delay  !  " 

He  spoke  with  a  really  startling  earnestness  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  there  flashed  upon  the 
mind  of  Challoner  the  ridiculous  jingle  which 
was  to  serve  as  a  pass-word.  w*  This  may,  per- 
haps, assist  you,"  he  said  ;  and  then,  with 
some  embarrassment :  "  'Nigger,  nigger,  never 
die.'  " 

A  light  of  relief  broke  upon  the  troubled 
countenance  of.  the  man  with  the  chin-beard. 
'"Black  face  and  shining  eye '—give  me  the 
letter,"  he  panted  in  one  gasp. 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  9 1 

"Well,"  said  Challoner,  though  still  with 
some  reluctance,  ' '  I  suppose  I  must  regard 
you  as  the  proper  recipient ;  and  though  I  may 
justly  complain  of  the  spirit  in  which  I  have 
been  treated,  I  am  only  too  glad  to  be  done 
with  all  responsibility.  Here  it  is,"  and  he 
produced  the  envelope. 

The  man  leaped  upon  it  like  a  beast,  and 
with  hands  that  trembled  in  a  manner  painful 
to  behold,  tore  it  open  and  unfolded  the  letter. 
As  he  read,  terror  seemed  to  mount  upon  him 
to  the  pitch  of  nightmare.  He  struck  one  hand 
upon  his  brow,  while  with  the  other,  as  if 
unconsciously,  he  crumpled  the  paper  to  a  ball. 
"  My  gracious  powers!"  he  cried;  and  then, 
dashing  to  the  window,  which  stood  open  on 
the  garden,  he  clapped  forth  his  head  and 
shoulders,  and  whistled  long  and  shrill.  Chal- 
loner fell  back  into  a  corner,  and  resolutely 
grasping  his  staff,  prepared  for  the  most 
desperate  events ;  but  the  thoughts  of  the 
man  Avith  the  chin-beard  were  far  removed 
from  violence.  Turning  again  into  the  room, 
and  once  more  beholding  his  visitor,  whom  he 
appeared  to  have  forgotten,  he  fairly  danced 
with  trepidation.  "Impossible!"  he  cried. 
uOh,  quite  impossible  !  O  Lord,  I  have  lost 
my  head."  And  then,  once  more  striking  his 
hand  upon  his  brow,  "The  money!"  he  ex- 
claimed.    ' '  Give  me  the  money. ' ' 


92  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

"  My  good  friend,"  replied  Challoner,  "this 
is  a  very  painful  exhibition  ;  and  until  I  see 
you  reasonably  master  of  yourself,  I  decline 
to  proceed  with,  any  business." 

"You  are  quite  right,"  said  the  man.  "I 
am  of  a  very  nervous  habit  ;  a  long  course  of 
the  dumb  ague  has  undermined  my  constitu- 
tion. But  I  know  you  have  money  ;  it  may  be 
still  the  saving  of  me  ;  and  oh,  dear  young  gen- 
tleman, in  pity's  name  be  expeditious  !  " 

Challoner,  sincerely  uneasy  as  he  was,  could 
scarce  refrain  from  laughter  ;  but  he  was  him- 
self in  a  hurry  to  be  gone,  and  without  more 
delay  produced  the  money.  ' '  You  will  find 
the  sum,  I  trust,  correct,"  he  observed  ;  "and 
let  me  ask  you  to  give  me  a  receipt." 

But  the  man  heeded  him  not.  He  seized  the 
money,  and  disregarding  the  sovereigns  that 
rolled  loose  upon  the  floor,  thrust  the  bundle  of 
notes  into  his  pocket. 

"A  receipt,"  repeated  Challoner  with  some 
asperity,   "  I  insist  on  a  receipt." 

' '  Receipt  ? ' '  repeated  the  man  a  little  wildly. 
"  A  receipt  ?     Immediately  !    Await  me  here." 

Challoner,  in  reply,  begged  the  gentleman  to 
lose  no  unnecessary  time,  as  he  was  himself 
desirous  of  catclr.ng  a  particular  train. 

"Ah,  by  God,  and  so  am  I !  "  exclaimed  the 
man  with  the  chin-beard  ;  and  with  that  he 
was  gone  out  of  the  room,  and  had  rattled  up 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  93 

stairs,  four  at  a  time,  to  the  upper  story  of  the 
villa. 

"  This  is  certainly  a  most  amazing  business," 
thought  Challoner,  "certainly  a  most  disquiet- 
ing affair  ;  and  I  can  not  conceal  from  myself 
that  I  have  become  mixed  up  with  either  luna- 
tics or  malefactors.  I  may  truly  thank  my 
stars  that  I  am  so  nearly  and  so  creditably 
done  with  it."  Thus  thinking  and  perhaps 
remembering  the  episode  of  the  whistle,  he 
turned  to  the  open  window.  The  garden  was 
still  faintly  clear;  he  could  distinguish  the 
stairs  and  terraces  with  which  the  small  domain 
had  been  adorned  by  former  owners,  and  the 
blackened  bushes  and  dead  trees  that  had  once 
afforded  shelter  to  the  country  birds ;  beyond 
these  he  saw  the  strong  retaining  wall,  some 
thirty  feet  in  height,  which  inclosed  the  garden 
to  the  back  ;  and  again  above  that,  the  pile  of 
dingy  buildings  rearing  its  frontage  high  into 
the  night.  A  peculiar  object  lying  stretched 
upon  the  lawn  for  some  time  baffled  his  eye- 
sight ;  but  at  length  he  made  it  out  to  be 
a  long  ladder,  or  series  of  ladders  bound  into 
one  ;  he  was  still  wondering  of  what  service  so 
great  an  instrument  could  be  in  such  a  scant 
inclosure,  when  he  was  recalled  to  himself  by 
the  noise  of  some  one  running  violently  down 
the  stairs.  This  was  followed  by  the  sudden, 
clamorous  banging  of  the  house  door  ;  and  that 


94  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

again,  by  rapid  and  retreating  footsteps  in  the 
street. 

Challoner  sprang  into  the  passage.  He  ran 
from  room  to  room,  up  stairs  and  down  stairs  ; 
and  in  that  old  dingy  and  worm-eaten  house, 
he  found  himself  alone.  Only  in  one 
apartment  looking  to  the  front,  were  there  any 
traces  of  the  late  inhabitant :  a  bed  that  had 
been  recently  slept  in  and  not  made,  a  chest  of 
drawers  disordered  by  a  hasty  search,  and  on  the 
floor  a  roll  of  crumpled  paper.  This  he  picked 
up.  The  light  in  this  upper  story  looking  to 
the  front  was  considerably  brighter  than  in  the 
parlor ;  and  he  was  able  to  make  out  that  the 
paper  bore  the  mark  of  the  hotel  at  Euston, 
and  even,  by  peering  closely,  to  decipher  the 
following  lines  in  a  very  elegant  and  careful 
female  hand  : 

"Dear  M'Guire,— It  is  certain  your  retreat 
is  known.  We  have  just  had  another  failure, 
clockwork  thirty  hours  too  soon,  with  the 
usual  humiliating  result.  Zero  is  quite  dis- 
heartened. We  are  all  scattered,  and  I  could 
find  no  one  but  the  solemn  ass  who  brings  you 
this  and  the  money.  I  would  love  to  see  your 
meeting.— Ever  yours, 

"  Shining  Eye." 

Challoner  was  stricken  to  the  heart.  He 
perceived  by  what  facility,  by  what  unmanly 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  95 

fear  of  ridicule,  he  had  been  brought  down  to 
be  the  gull  of  this  intriguer ;  and  his  wrath 
flowed  forth  in  almost  equal  measure  against 
himself,  against  the  woman,  and  against  Somer- 
set, whose  idle  counsels  had  impelled  him  to 
embark  on  that  adventure.  At  the  same  time 
a  great  and  troubled  curiosity,  and  a  certain 
chill  of  fear,  possessed  his  spirit.  The  conduct 
of  the  man  with  the  chin-beard,  the  terms  of 
the  letter,  and  the  explosion  of  the  early  morn- 
ing, fitted  together  like  parts  in  some  obscure 
and  mischievous  imbroglio.  Evil  was  certainly 
afoot ;  evil,  secrecy,  terror  and  falsehood  were 
the  conditions  and  the  passions  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  had  begun  to  move,  like  a 
blind  puppet ;  and  he  who  began  as  a  puppet, 
his  experience  told  him,  was  often  doomed  to 
perish  as  a  victim. 

From  the  stupor  of  deep  thought  into  which 
he  had  glided  with  the  letter  in  his  hand,  he 
was  awakened  by  the  clatter  of  the  bell.  He 
glanced  from  the  window  ;  and,  conceive  his 
horror  and  surprise  when  he  beheld,  clustered 
on  the  steps,  in  the  front  garden  and  on  the 
pavement  of  the  street,  a  formidable  posse  of 
police !  He  started  to  the  full  possession  of 
his  powers  and  courage.  Escape,  and  escape 
at  any  cost,  was  the  one  idea  that  possessed 
him.  Swiftly  and  silently  he  redescended 
the  creaking  stairs  ;   he  was  already  in  the 


96  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

passage  when  a  second  and  more  imperious 
summons  from  the  door  awoke  the  echoes  of 
the  empty  house ;  nor  had  the  bell  ceased  to 
jangle  before  he  had  bestridden  the  window-sill 
of  the  parlor  and  was  lowering  himself  into  the 
garden.  His  coat  was  hooked  upon  the  iron 
flower  basket ;  for  a  moment  he  hung  depend- 
ent heels  and  head  below ;  and  then,  with  the 
noise  of  rending  cloth  and  followed  by  several 
pots,  he  dropped  upon  the  sod.  Once  more 
the  bell  was  rung,  and  now  with  furious  and 
repeated  peals.  The  desperate  Challoner 
turned  his  eyes  on  every  side.  They  fell  upon 
the  ladder,  and  he  ran  to  it,  and  with  strenu- 
ous but  unavailing  effort  sought  to  raise  it 
from  the  ground.  Suddenly  the  weight,  which 
was  thus  resisting  his  whole  strength,  began 
to  lighten  in  his  hands  ;  the  ladder,  like  a 
thing  of  life,  reared  its  bulk  from  off  the  sod  ; 
and  Challoner,  leaping  back  with  a  cry  of 
almost  superstitious  terror,  beheld  the  whole 
structure  mount,  foot  by  foot,  against  the  face 
of  the  retaining  wall.  At  the  same  time,  two 
heads  were  dimly  visible  above  the  parapet, 
and  he  was  hailed  by  a  guarded  whistle.  Some- 
thing in  its  modulation  recalled,  like  an  echo, 
the  whistle  of  the  man  with  the  chin-beard. 

Had  he  chanced  upon  a  means  of  escape  pre- 
pared beforehand  by  those  very  miscreants, 
whose  messenger  and  gull   he  had  become  % 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  97 

Was  this,  indeed,  a  means  of  safety,  or  but 
the  starting-point  of  further  complication  and 
disaster?  He  paused  not  to  reflect.  Scarce 
was  the  ladder  reared  to  its  full  length  than  he 
had  sprung  already  on  the  rounds  ;  hand  over 
hand,  swift  as  an  ape,  he  scaled  the  tottering 
stairway.  Strong  arms  received,  embraced, 
and  helped  him  ;  he  was  lifted  and  set  once 
more  upon  the  earth  ;  and  with  the  spasm  of 
his  alarm  yet  unsubsided,  found  himself,  in 
the  company  of  two  rough-looking  men,  in  the 
paved  back  yard  of  one  of  the  tall  houses  that 
crowned  the  summit  of  the  hill.  Meanwhile, 
from  below,  the  note  of  the  bell  had  been  suc- 
ceeded by  the  sound  of  vigorous  and  redoub- 
ling blows. 

"  Are  you  all  out?"  asked  one  of  his  com- 
panions ;  and  as  soon  as  he  had  babbled  an 
answer  in  the  affirmative,  the  rope  was  cut 
from  the  top  round,  and  the  ladder  thrust 
roughly  back  into  the  garden,  where  it  fell  and 
broke  with  clattering  reverberations.  Its  fall 
was  hailed  with  many  broken  cries  ;  for  the 
whole  of  Richard  Street  was  now  in  high 
emotion,  the  people  crowding  to  the  windows 
or  clambering  on  the  garden  walls.  The  same 
man  who  had  already  addressed  Challoner 
seized  him  by  the  arm  ;  whisked  him  through 
the  basement  of  the  house  and  across  the  street 
upon  the  other  side  ;  and  before  the  unfortu- 


98  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

nate  adventurer  had  time  to  realize  his  situa- 
tion, a  door  was  opened  and  he  was  thrust  into 
a  low  and  dark  compartment. 

"Bedad,"  observed  his  guide,  "  there  was 
no  time  to  lose.  Is  M'Guire  gone,  or  was  it 
you  that  whistled  I " 

"  M'Guire  is  gone,"  said  Challoner. 

The  guide  now  struck  a  light.  "Ah,"  said 
he,  "this  will  never  do.  You  dare  not  go 
upon  the  streets  in  such  a  figure.  Wait  quietly 
here  and  I  will  bring  you  something  decent." 

With  that  the  man  was  gone,  and  Challoner, 
his  attention  thus  rudely  awakened,  began 
ruefully  to  consider  the  havoc  that  had  been 
worked  in  his  attire.  His  hat  was  gone  ;  his 
trowsers  were  cruelly  ripped  ;  and  the  best 
part  of  one  tail  of  his  very  elegant  frock-coat 
had  been  left  hanging  from  the  iron  crockets 
of  the  window.  He  had  scarce  had  time  to 
measure  these  disasters  when  his  host  re-en- 
tered the  apartment  and  proceeded,  without  a 
word,  to  envelope  the  refined  and  urbane  Chal- 
loner in  a  long  ulster  of  the  cheapest  material 
and  of  a  pattern  so  gross  and  vulgar  that  his 
spirit  sickened  at  the  sight.  This  calumnious 
disguise  was  crowned  and  completed  by  a  soft 
felt  hat  of  the  Tyrolese  design  and  several 
sizes  too  small.  At  another  moment  Challoner 
would  simply  have  refused  to  issue  forth  upon 
the  world  thus  travestied  ;  but  the  desire  to 


THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES.  99 

escape  from  Glasgow  was  now  too  strongly  and 
too  exclusively  impressed  upon  Ms  mind. 
With  one  haggard  glance  at  the  spotted  tails 
of  his  new  coat,  he  inquired  what  was  to  pay  for 
this  accouterment.  The  man  assured  him  that 
the  whole  expense  was  easily  met  from  funds 
in  his  possession,  and  begged  him,  instead  of 
wasting  time,  to  make  his  best  speed  out  of 
the  neighborhood. 

The  young  man  was  not  loth  to  take  the 
hint.  True  to  his  usual  courtesy,  he  thanked 
the  speaker  and  complimented  him  upon  his 
taste  in  greatcoats  ;  and  leaving  the  man  some- 
what abashed  by  these  remarks  and  the  manner 
of  their  delivery,  he  hurried  forth  into  the  lamp- 
lighted  city.  The  last  train  was  gone  ere,  after 
many  deviations,  he  had  reached  the  terminus. 
Attired  as  he  was  he  dared  not  present  himself 
at  any  reputable  inn  ;  and  he  felt  keenly  that 
the  unassuming  dignity  of  his  demeanor  would 
serve  to  attract  attention,  perhaps  mirth,  and 
possibly  suspicion,  in  any  humbler  hostelry. 
He  was  thus  condemned  to  pass  the  solemn  and 
uneventful  hours  of  a  whole  night  in  pacing 
the  streets  of  Glasgow  ;  supperless  ;  a  figure  of 
fun  for  all  beholders  ;  waiting  the  dawn,  with 
hope  indeed,  but  with  unconquerable  shrink- 
ings  ;  and  above  all  things,  filled  with  a  pro- 
found sense  of  the  folly  and  weakness  of  his 
conduct.   It  may  be  conceived  with  what  curses 


ioo  THE  SQUIRE  OF  DAMES. 

he  assailed  the  memory  of  the  fair  narrator  of 
Hyde  Park  ;  her  parting  laughter  rang  in  his 
ears  all  night  with  damning  mockery  and  itera- 
tion ;  and  when  he  could  spare  a  thought  from 
this  chief  artificer  of  his  confusion,  it  was  to 
expend  his  wrath  on  Somerset  and  the  career 
of  the  amateur  detective.  With  the  coming  of 
day,  he  found  in  a  shy  milk-shop  the  means  to 
appease  his  hunger.  There  were  still  many 
hours  to  wait  before  the  departure  of  the  south 
express  ;  these  he  passed  wandering  with  in- 
describable fatigue  in  the  obscurer  by-streets  of 
the  city  ;  and  at  length  slipped  quietly  into  the 
station  and  took  his  place  in  the  darkest  corner 
of  a  third-class  carriage.  Here,  all  day  long, 
he  jolted  on  the  bare  boards,  distressed  by  heat 
and  continually  re-awakened  from  uneasy 
slumbers.  By  the  half  return  ticket  in  his 
purse,  he  was  entitled  to  make  the  journey  on 
the  easy  cushions  and  with  the  ample  space  of 
the  first-class ;  but  alas  !  in  his  absurd  attire 
he  durst  not  for  decency  co-mingle  with  his 
equals  ;  and  this  small  annoyance,  coming  last 
in  such  a  series  of  disasters,  cut  him  to  the 
heart. 

That  night,  when,  in  his  Putney  lodging,  he 
reviewed  the  expense,  anxiety,  and  weariness 
of  his  adventure  ;  when  he  beheld  the  ruins  of 
his  last  good  trowsers  and  his  last  presentable 
coat ;    and  above  all,    when  his  eye  by  any 


THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION.  I o I 

chance  alighted  on  the  Tyrolese  hat  or  the 
degrading  ulster,  his  heart  would  overflow  with 
bitterness,  and  it  was  only  by  a  serious  call  on 
his  philosophy  that  he  maintained  :the  dignity 
of  his  demeanor. 


SOMERSETS    ADVENTURE:     THE    SUPERFLUOUS 
MANSION. 

MR.  PAUL  SOMERSET  was  a  young 
gentleman  of  a  lively  and  fiery  imagina- 
tion, with  very  small  capacity  for  action.  He 
was  one  who  lived  exclusively  in  dreams  and 
in  the  future  :  the  creature  of  his  own  theories, 
and  an  actor  in  his  own  romances.  From  the 
cigar  divan  he  proceeded  to  parade  the  streets, 
still  heated  with  the  fire  of  his  eloquence,  and 
scouting  upon  every  side  for  the  offer  of  some 
fortunate  adventure.  In  the  continual  stream 
of  passers-by,  on  the  sealed  fronts  of  houses, 
on  the  posters  that  covered  the  hoardings,  and 
in  every  lineament  and  throb  of  the  great  city 
he  saw  a  mysterious  and  hopeful  hieroglyph. 
But  although  the  elements  of  adventure  were 
streaming  by  him  as  thick  as  drops  of  water  in 
the  Thames,  it  was  in  vain  that,  now  with  a 
beseeching,  now  with  something  of  a  bragga- 
docio air,  he  courted  and  provoked  the  notice 
of  the  passengers;  in  vain  that,  putting  fortune 


I  o  2  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

to  the  touch,  he  even  thrust  himself  into  the 
way  and  came  into  direct  collision  with  those 
of  the  more  promising  demeanor.  Persons 
brimful  of  -c'ecrets,  persons  pining  for  affection, 
persons  perishing  for  lack  of  help  or  counsel, 
he1  was  s  are  he  could  perceive  on  every  side  ; 
but  by  some  contrariety  of  fortune,  each  passed 
upon  his  way  without  remarking  the  young 
gentleman,  and  went  further  (surely  to  fare 
worse  ! )  in  quest  of  the  confidant,  the  friend, 
or  the  adviser.  To  thousands  he  must  have 
turned  an  appealing  countenance,  and  yet  not 
one  regarded  him. 

A  light  dinner,  eaten  to  the  accompaniment 
of  his  impetuous  aspirations,  broke  in  upon  the 
series  of  his  attempts  on  fortune  ;  and  when  he 
returned  to  the  task,  the  lamps  were  already 
lighted,  and  the  nocturnal  crowd  was  dense 
upon  the  pavement.  Before  a  certain  restau- 
rant, whose  name  will  readily  occur  to  any  stu- 
dent of  our  Babylon,  people  were  already 
packed  so  closely  that  passage  had  grown  diffi- 
cult ;  and  Somerset,  standing  in  the  kennel, 
watched,  with  a  hope  that  was  beginning  to 
grow  somewhat  weary,  the  faces  and  the  man- 
ners of  the  crowd.  Suddenly  he  was  startled 
by  a  gentle  touch  upon  the  shoulder,  and  facing 
about,  he  was  aware  of  a  very  plain  and  elegant 
brougham,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  powerful  horses, 
and  driven  by  a  man  in  sober  livery.      There 


THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION.  1 03 

were  no  arms  upon  the  panel ;  the  window  was 
open,  but  the  interior  was  obscure  ;  the  driver 
yawned  behind  his  palm  ;  and  the  young  man 
was  already  beginning  to  suppose  himself  the 
dupe  of  his  own  fancy,  when  a  hand,  no  larger 
than  a  child's  and  smoothly  gloved  in  white, 
appeared  in  a  corner  of  the  window  and  privily 
beckoned  him  to  approach.  He  did  so,  and 
looked  in.  The  carriage  was  occupied  by  a 
single  small  and  dainty  figure,  swathed  head 
and  shoulders  in  impenetrable  folds  of  white 
lace  ;  and  a  voice,  speaking  low  and  silvery, 
addressed  him  in  these  words  : 

"Open  the  door  and  get  in." 

"  It  must  be,"  thought  the  young  man  with 
an  almost  unbearable  thrill,  "it  must  be  that 
duchess  at  last !"  Yet,  although  the  moment 
was  one  to  which  he  had  long  looked  forward, 
it  was  with  a  certain  share  of  alarm  that  he 
opened  the  door,  and,  mounting  into  the 
brougham,  took  his  seat  beside  the  lady  of  the 
lace.  Whether  or  no  she  had  touched  a  spring, 
or  given  some  other  signal,  the  young  man  had 
hardly  closed  the  door  before  the  carriage,  with 
considerable  swiftness,  and  with  a  very  luxuri- 
ous and  easy  movement  on  its  springs,  turned 
and  began  to  drive  toward  the  west. 

Somerset,  as  I  have  written,  was  not  unpre- 
pared ;  it  had  long  been  his  particular  pleasure 
to  rehearse  his  conduct  in  the  most  unlikely 


1 04  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

situations  ;    and  this,  among  others,  of  the  pa- 
trician ravisher,    was  one  he  had  familiarly 
studied.     Strange  as  it  may  seem,  however,  he 
could  find  no  apposite  remark  ;  and  as  the  lady, 
on  her  side,  vouchsafed  no  further  sign,  they 
continued  to  drive  in  silence  through  the  streets. 
Except  for  alternate  flashes  from  the  passing 
lamps,  the  carriage  was  plunged  in  obscurity  ; 
and  beyond  the    fact  that  the  fittings  were 
luxurious,   and  that  the  lady  was  singularly 
small  and  slender  in  person,  and,  all  but  one 
gloved  hand,   still  swathed  in  her  costly  veil, 
the  young  man  could  decipher  no  detail  of  an 
inspiring  nature.     The  suspense  began  to  grow 
unbearable.     Twice  he  cleared  his  throat,  and 
twice  the  whole  resources  of  the  language  failed 
him.     In  similar  scenes,  when  he  had  forecast 
them  on  the  theater  of  fancy,  his  presence  of 
mind  had  always  been  complete,  his  eloquence 
remarkable  ;  and  at  this  disparity  between  the 
rehearsal  and  the  performance,  he  began  to  be 
seized  with  a  panic  of  apprehension.     Here,  on 
the  very  threshold  of  adventure,  suppose  him 
ignominiously  to  fail ;  suppose  that  after  ten, 
twenty,  or  sixty  seconds  of  still  uninterrupted 
silence,  the  lady  should  touch  the  check-string 
and  re-deposit  him,  weighed  and  found  want- 
ing, on  the  common  street !     Thousands  of  per- 
sons of  no  mind  at  all,  he  reasoned,  would  be 
found  more  equal  to  the  part ;  could,  that  very 


THE  S UPERFL  UO  US  MA NSION.  1 05 

instant,  by  some  decisive  step,  prove  the  lady's 
choice  to  have  been  well  inspired,  and  pnt  a 
stop  to  this  intolerable  silence. 

His  eye,  at  this  point,  lighted  on  the  hand. 
It  was  better  to  fall  by  desperate  councils  than 
to  continue  as  he  was  ;  and  with  one  tremulous 
swoop  he  pounced  on  the  gloved  lingers  and 
drew  them  to  himself.  One  overt  step,  it  had 
appeared  to  him,  would  dissolve  the  spell  of 
his  embarrassment ;  in  act,  he  found  it  otlier- 
wise :  he  found  himself  no  less  incapable  of 
speech  or  further  progress  ;  and  with  the  lady' s 
hand  in  his,  sat  helpless.  But  worse  was  in 
store.  A  peculiar  quivering  began  to  agitate 
the  form  of  his  companion  ;  the  hand  that  lay 
unresistingly  in  Somerset's  trembled  as  with 
ague  ;  and  presently  there  broke  forth,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  carriage,  the  bubbling  and 
musical  sound  of  laughter,  resisted  but  triumph- 
ant. The  young  man  dropped  his  prize  ;  had 
it  been  possible,  he  would  have  bounded  from 
the  carriage.  The  lady,  meanwhile,  lying  back 
upon  the  cushions,  passed  on  from  trill  to  trill 
of  the  most  heartfelt,  high-pitched,  clear  and 
fairy-sounding  merriment. 

"You  must  not  be  offended,"  she  said  at 
last,  catching  an  opportunity  between  two 
paroxysms.  "  If  you  have  been  mistaken  in 
the  warmth  of  your  attentions,  the  fault  is 
solely  mine  ;  it  does  not  flow  from  your  pre- 


I c6  THE  SUPERFL  I/O  US  MANS/ON. 

sumption,  but  from  my  eccentric  manner  of 
recruiting  friends  ;  and,  believe  me,  I  am  the 
last  person  in  the  world  to  think  the  worse  of  a 
young  man  for  showing  spirit.  As  for  to-night, 
it  is  my  intention  to  entertain  you  to  a  little 
supper  ;  and  if  I  shall  continue  to  be  as  much 
pleased  with  your  manners  as  I  was  taken  with 
your  face,  I  may  perhaps  end  by  making  you 
an  advantageous  offer." 

Somerset  sought  in  vain  to  find  some  form  of 
answer,  but  his  discomfiture  had  been  too  recent 
and  complete. 

"  Come,"  returned  the  lady,  "  we  must  have 
no  display  of  temper  ;  that  is  for  me  the  one 
disqualifying  fault  ;  and  as  I  perceive  we  are 
drawing  near  our  destination,  I  shall  ask  you 
to  descend  and  offer  me  your  arm." 

Indeed,  at  that  very  moment  the  carriage 
drew  up  before  a  stately  and  severe  mansion  in 
a  spacious  square  ;  and  Somerset,  who  was 
possessed  of  an  excellent  temper,  with  the  best 
grace  in  the  world  assisted  the  lady  to  alight. 
The  door  was  opened  by  an  old  woman  of  a 
grim  appearance,  who  ushered  the  pair  into  a 
dining-room  somewhat  dimly  lighted,  but 
already  laid  for  supper,  and  occupied  by  a 
prodigious  company  of  large  and  valuable  cats. 
Here,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone,  the  lady 
divested  herself  of  the  lace  in  which  she  was 
infolded  ;  and  Somerset  was  relieved  to  find, 


THE  SUPER EL  UO  US  MANSION.  I  o 7 

that  although  still  bearing  the  traces  of  great 
beauty,  and  still  distinguished  by  the  fire  and 
color  of  her  eye,  her  hair  Avas  of  a  silvery  white- 
ness and  her  face  lined  with  years. 

"  And  now,  monpreux"  said  the  old  lady, 
nodding  at  him  with  a  quaint  gayety,  ' '  you 
perceive  that  I  am  no  longer  in  my  first  youth. 
You  will  soon  find  that  I  am  all  the  better  com- 
pany for  that." 

As  she  spoke,  the  maid  re-entered  the  apart- 
ment with  a  light  but  tasteful  supper.  They 
sat  down,  accordingly,  to  table,  the  cats  with 
savage  pantomime  surrounding  the  old  lady's 
chair,  and  what  with  the  excellence  of  the  meal 
and  the  gayety  of  his  entertainer,  Somerset  was 
soon  completely  at  his  ease.  When  they  had 
well  eaten  and  drunk,  the  old  lady  leaned  back 
in  her  chair,  and  taking  a  cat  upon  her  lap,  sub- 
jected her  guest  to  a  prolonged  but  evidently 
mirthful  scrutiny. 

"  I  fear,  madam,"  said  Somerset,  "that  my 
manners  have  not  risen  to  the  height  of  your 
preconceived  opinion." 

"  My  dear  young  man,"  she  replied,  "you 
were  never  more  mistaken  in  your  life.  I  find 
you  charming,  and  you  may  very  well  have 
lighted  on  a  fairy  godmother.  I  am  not  one  of 
those  who  are  given  to  change  their  opinions, 
and  short  of  substantial  demerit,  those  who 
have  once  gained  my  favor  continue  to  enjoy  it ; 


1 08  THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

but  I  have  a  singular  swiftness  of  decision,  read 
my  fellow  men  and  women  with,  a  glance,  and 
have  acted  throughout  life  on  first  impressions. 
Yours,  as  1  tell  you,  has  been  f avorable  :  and  if, 
as  I  suppose,  you  are  a  young  fellow  of  some- 
what idle  habits,  I  think  it  not ;  improbable  that 
we  may  strike  a  bargain." 

"Ah,  madam,"  returned  Somerset,  "you 
have  divined  my  situation.  I  am  a  man  of 
birth,  parts  and  breeding  ;  excellent  company, 
or  at] east  so  I  find  myself  ;  but  by  a  peculiar 
iniquity  of  fate,  destitute  alike  of  trade  or 
money.  I  was,  indeed,  this  evening  upon  the 
quest  of  an  adventure,  resolved  to  close  with  any 
oifer  of  interest,  emolument  or  pleasure  ;  and 
your  summons,  which  I  profess  I  am  still  at  some 
loss  to  understand,  jumped  naturally  with  the 
inclination  of  my  mind.  Call  it,  if  you  will, 
impudence ;  I  am  here,  at  least,  prepared  for 
any  proposition  you  can  find  it  in  your  heart  to 
make,  and  resolutely  determined  to  accept." 

"You  express  yourself  very  well,"  replied 
the  old  lady,  "and  are  certainly  a  droll  and 
curious  young  man.  I  should  not  care  to 
affirm  that  you  were  sane,  for  T  have  never  found 
any  one  entirely  so  besides  myself  ;  but  at  least 
the  nature  of  your  madness  entertains  me,  and 
I  will  reward  you  with  some  description  of  my 
character  and  life." 

Thereupon  the  old  lady,  still  fondling  the  cat 


7 HE  SPIRI TED  OLD  LADY.  109 

upon  her  lap,  proceeded  to  narrate  the  follow- 
ing particulars. 


NARRATIVE    OF   THE  SPIRITED    OLD    LADY. 

I  WAS  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Eeverend 
Bernard  Fanshawe,  who  held  a  valuable 
living  in  the  diocese  of  Bath  and  Wells.  Our 
family,  a  very  large  one,  was  noted  for  a 
sprightly  and  incisive  wit,  and  came  of  a  good 
old  stock  where  beauty  was  an  heirloom.  In 
Christian  grace  of  character  we  were  unhappily 
deficient.  From  my  earliest  years  I  saw  and 
deplored  the  defects  of  those  relatives  whose 
age  and  position  should  have  enabled  them  to 
conquer  my  esteem  ;  and  while  I  was  yet  a 
child,  my  father  married  a  second  wife,  in  whom 
(strange  to  say)  the  Fanshawe  failings  were  ex- 
aggerated to  a  monstrous  and  almost  laughable 
degree.  Whatever  may  be  said  against  me,  it 
can  not  be  denied  I  was  a  pattern  daughter  ;  but 
it  was  in  vain  that,  with  the  most  touching 
patience,  I  submitted  to  my  stepmother's 
demands  ;  and  from  the  hour  she  entered  my 
father's  house,  I  may  say  that  I  met  with  noth- 
ing but  injustice  and  ingratitude. 

I  stood  not  alone,  however,  in  the  sweetness 
of  my  disposition ;  for  one  other  of  the  family  be- 
sides myself  was  free  from  any  violence  of  char- 


no  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

acter.  Before  I  liad  readied  the  age  of  sixteen, 
this  cousin,  John  by  name,  had  conceived  for 
me  a  sincere  but  silent  passion  ;  and  although 
the  poor  lad  was  too  timid  to  hint  at  the  nature 
of  his  feelings,  I  had  soon  divined  and  begun 
to  share  them.  For  some  days* I  pondered  on 
the  odd  situation  created  for  me  by  the  bash- 
fulness  of  my  admirer  :  and  at  length,  perceiv- 
ing that  he  began,  in  his  distress,  rather  to  avoid 
than  seek  my  company,  I  determined  to  take 
the  matter  into  my  own  hands.  Finding  him 
alone  in  a  retired  part  of  the  rectory  garden,  I 
told  him  that  I  had  divined  his  amiable  secret ; 
that  I  knew  with  what  disfavor  our  union  was 
sure  to  be  regarded  ;  and  that,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, I  wTas  prepared  to  flee  with  him  at 
once.  Poor  John  was  literally  paralyzed  with 
joy  ;  such  was  the  force  of  his  emotions,  that 
he  could  find  no  words  in  which  to  thank  me  ; 
and  that  I,  seeing  him  thus  helpless,  was 
obliged  to  arrange,  myself,  the  details  of  our 
flight,  and  of  the  stolen  marriage  which  was 
immediately  to  crown  it.  John  had  been  at 
that  time  projecting  a  visit  to  the  metropolis. 
In  this  I  bade  him  persevere,  and  promised  on 
the  following  day  to  join  him  at  the  Tavistock 
Hotel. 

True,  on  my  side,  to  every  detail  of  our 
arrangement,  I  arose,  on  the  day  in  question, 
before  the  servants,  packed  a  few  necessaries  in 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  ill 

a  bag,  took  with  me  the  little  money  I  possessed, 
and  bade  farewell  forever  to  the  rectory.  I 
walked  with  good  spirits  to  a  town  some  thirty 
miles  from  home,  and  was  set  down  the  next 
morning  in  this  great  city  of  London.  As  I 
walked  from  the  coach-office  to  the  hotel,  I 
conld  not  kelp  exulting  in  the  pleasant  change 
that  had  befallen  me  ;  beholding,  meanwhile, 
with  innocent  delight,  the  traffic  of  the  streets, 
and  depicting,  in  all  the  colors  of  fancy,  the 
reception  that  awaited  me  from  John.  But 
alas !  when  I  inquired  for  Mr.  Fanshawe,  the 
porter  assnred  me  there  was  no  such  gentleman 
among  the  gnests.  By  what  channel  our  secret 
had  leaked  out,  or  what  pressure  had  been 
brought  to  bear  on  the  too  facile  John,  I  could 
never  fathom.  Enough  that  my  family  had 
triumphed  ;  that  I  found  myself  alone  in  Lon- 
don, tender  in  years,  smarting  under  the  most 
sensible  mortification,  and  by  every  sentiment 
of  pride  and  self-respect  debarred  forever  from 
my  father's  house. 

I  rose  under  the  blow,  and  found  lodgings  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Euston  Road,  where,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  tasted  the  joys  of 
independence.  Three  days  afterwards,  an 
advertisement  in  The  Times  directed  me  to 
the  office  of  a  solicitor  whom  I  knew  to  be  in 
my  father's  confidence.  There  I  was  given  the 
promise  of  a  very  moderate  allowance,  and  a  dis- 


112  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

tinct  intimation  that  I  must  never  look  to  be 
received  at  home.  I  could  not  but  resent  so  cruel 
a  desertion,  and  I  told  the  lawyer  it  was  a  meet- 
ing I  desired  as  little  as  themselves.  He  smiled 
at  my  courageous  spirit,  paid  me  the  first  quar- 
ter of  my  income,  and  gave  me  the  remainder  of 
my  personal  effects,  which  had  been  sent  to  me 
under  his  care,  in  a  couple  of  rather  ponderous 
boxes.  With  these  I  returned  in  triumph  to 
my  lodgings  more  content  with  my  position 
than  I  should  have  thought  possible  a  week 
before  and  fully  determined  to  make  the  best  of 
the  future. 

All  went  well  for  several  months  ;  and,  indeed, 
it  was  my  own  fault  alone  that  ended  this  pleas- 
ant and  secluded  episode  of  life.  I  have,  I 
must  confess,  the  fatal  trick  of  spoiling  my 
inferiors.  My  landlady,  to  whom  I  had  as  usual 
been  overkind,  impertinently  called  me  in  fault 
for  some  particular  too  small  to  mention  ;  and 
I,  annoyed  that  I  had  allowed  her  the  freedom 
upon  which  she  thus  presumed,  ordered  her  to 
leave  my  presence.  She  stood  a  moment  dumb, 
and  then,  recalling  her  self-possession,  "  Your 
bill,"  said  she,  "  shall  be  ready  this  evening, 
and  to-morrow,  madam,  you  shall  leave  my 
house.  See,"  she  added,  "that  you  are  able  to 
pay  what  you  owe  me  ;  for  if  I  do  not  receive 
the  uttermost  farthing,  no  box  of  yours  shall 
pass  my  threshold." 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  113 

I  was  confounded  at  her  audacity,  but  as  a 
whole  quarter's  income  was  due  to  me,  not 
otherwise  affected  by  the  threat.  That  after- 
noon, as  I  left  the  solicitor1  s  door,  carrying  in 
one  hand,  and  done  up  in  a  paper  parcel,  the 
whole  amount  of  my  fortune,  there  befell  me 
one  of  those  decisive  incidents  that  sometimes 
shape  a  life.  The  lawyers  office  was  situate 
in  a  street  that  opened  at  the  upper  end  upon 
the  Strand  and  was  closed  at  the  lower,  at 
the  time  of  which  I  speak,  by  a  row  of  iron 
railings  looking  on  the  Thames.  Down  this 
street,  then,  I  beheld  my  stepmother  advancing 
to  meet  me,  and  doubtless  bound  to  the  very 
house  I  had  just  left.  She  was  attended  by  a 
maid  whose  face  was  new  to  me  ;  but  her  own 
was  too  clearly  printed  on  my  memory  ;  and  the 
sight  of  it,  even  from  a  distance,  filled  me  with 
generous  indignation.  Flight  was  impossible. 
There  was  nothing  left  but  to  retreat  against 
the  railing,  and  with  my  back  turned  to  the 
street,  pretend  to  be  admiring  Xh^  barges  on  the 
river  or  the  chimneys  of  transpontine  London. 

I  was  still  standing,  and  had  not  yet  fully 
mastered  the  turbulence  of  my  emotions,  when 
a  voice  at  my  elbow  addressed  me  with  a  trivi- 
al question.  It  was  the  maid  whom  my  step- 
mother, with  characteristic  hardness,  had  left 
to  await  her  on  the  street,  while  she  transacted 
her  business  with  the  family  solicitor.     The  girl 


1 1 4  THE  SPIRI  TED  OLD  LADY. 

did  not  know  who  I  was  ;  the  opportunity  too 
golden  to  be  lost ;  and  I  was  soon  hearing  the 
latest  news  of  my  father' s  rectory  and  parish. 
It  did  not  surprise  me  to  find  that  she  detested 
her  employers  ;  and  yet  the  terms  in  which  she 
spoke  of  them  were  hard  to  bear,  hard  to  let 
pass  unchallenged.  I  heard  them,  however, 
without  dissent,  for  my  self-command  is  won- 
derful ;  and  we  might  have  parted  as  we  met 
had  she  not  proceeded,  in  an  evil  hour,  to  criti- 
cise the  rector's  missing  daughter,  and  with 
the  most  shocking  perversions,  to  narrate  the 
story  of  her  flight.  My  nature  is  so  essentially 
generous  that  I  can  never  pause  to  reason.  I 
flung  up  my  hand  sharply,  by  way,  as  well  as  I 
remember,  of  indignant  protest ;  and,  in  the 
act,  the  packet  slipped  from  my  fingers,  glanced 
between  the  railings,  and  fell  and  sunk  in  the 
river.  I  stood  for  a  moment  petrified,  and  then, 
struck  by  the  drollery  of  the  incident,  gave  way 
to  peals  of  laughter.  I  was  still  laughing  when 
my  stepmother  reappeared,  and  the  maid,  who 
doubtless  considered  me  insane,  ran  off  to  join 
her  ;  nor  had  I  yet  recovered  my  gravity  when 
I  presented  myself  before  the  lawyer  to  solicit 
a  fresh  advance.  His  answer  made  me  serious 
enough,  for  it  was  a  flat  refusal ;  and  it  was 
not  until  I  had  besought  him  even  with  tears, 
that  he  consented  to  lend  me  ten  pounds  from 
his  own  pocket.     "  I  am  a  poor  man,"  said  he, 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  115 

"and  you  must  look  for  nothing  further  at  my 
hands." 

The  landlady  met  me  at  the  door.  "Here, 
madam,"  said  she,  with  a  courtesy  insolently 
low,  "here  is  my  bill.  Would  it  inconven- 
ience you  to  settle  it  at  once  %  " 

"You  shall  be  paid,  madam,"  said  I,  "in 
the  morning,  in  the  proper  course."  And  I 
took  the  paper  with  a  very  high  air,  but 
inwardly  quaking. 

I  had  no  sooner  looked  at  it  than  I  per- 
ceived  myself  to  be  lost.  I  had  been  short  of 
money  and  had  allowed  my  debt  to  mount ; 
and  it  had  now  reached  the  sum,  which  I  shall 
never  forget,  of  twelve  pounds  thirteen  shillings 
and  fourpence  halfpenny.  All  evening  I  sat 
by  the  fire  considering  my  situation.  I  could 
not  pay  the  bill ;  my  landlady  would  not  suffer 
me  to  remove  my  boxes  ;  and  without  either 
baggage  or  money,  how  was  I  to  find  another 
lodging  %  For  three  months,  unless  I  could 
invent  some  remedy,  I  was  condemned  to  be 
without  a  roof  and  without  a  penny.  It  can 
surprise  no  one  that  I  decided  on  immediate 
flight ;  but  even  here  I  was  confronted  by  a 
difficulty,  for  I  had  no  sooner  packed  my 
boxes  than  I  found  I  was  not  strong  enough  to 
move,  far  less  to  carry  them. 

In  this  strait  I  did  not  hesitate  a  moment, 
but  throwing  on  a  shawl  and  bonnet,  and  cover- 


Il6  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

ing  my  face  with  a  thick  veil,  I  betook  myself 
to  that  great  bazar  of  dangerous  and  smiling 
chances,  the  pavement  of  the  city.  It  was 
already  late  at  night,  and  the  weather  being 
wet  and  windy,  there  were  few  abroad  besides 
policemen.  These,  on  my  present  mission,  I  had 
wit  enough  to  know  for  enemies  ;  and  wherever 
I  perceived  their  moving  lanterns,  I  made  haste 
to  turn  aside  and  choose  another  thoroughfare. 
A  few  miserable  women  still  walked  the  pave- 
ment ;  here  and  there  were  young  fellows 
returning  drunk,  or  ruffians  of  the  lowest  class 
lurking  in  the  mouths  of  alleys  ;  but  of  any  one 
to  whom  I  might  appeal  in  my  distress,  I  began 
almost  to  despair. 

At  last,  at  the  corner  of  a  street,  I  ran  into 
the  arms  of  one  who  was  evidently  a  gentle- 
man, and  who,  in  all  his  appointments,  from 
his  furred  great-coat  to  the  fine  cigar  which  he 
was  smoking,  comfortably  breathed  of  wealth. 
Much  as  my  face  has  changed  from  its  original 
beauty,  I  still  retain  (or  so  I  tell  myself)  some 
traces  of  the  youthful  lightness  of  my  figure. 
Even  veiled  as  I  then  was,  I  could  perceive  the 
gentleman  was  struck  by  my  appearance  ;  and 
this  emboldened  me  for  my  adventure. 

' '  Sir, ' '  said  I  with  a  quickly  beating  heart, 
' '  are  you  one  in  whom  a  lady  can  confide  1 ' ' 

' '  Why,  my  dear, ' '  said  he,  removing  his 
cigar,  ' '  that  depends  on  circumstances.  If  you 
will  raise  your  veil — " 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  117 

"Sir,"  I  interrupted,  "  let  there  be  no  mis- 
take. I  ask  you,  as  a  gentleman,  to  serve  me, 
but  I  offer  no  reward." 

"That  is  frank,"  said  lie,  "but  hardly 
tempting.  And  what,  may  I  inquire,  is  the 
nature  of  the  service  ? ' ' 

But  I  knew  well  enough  it  was  not  my  inter- 
est to  tell  him  on  so  short  an  interview.  "If 
you  will  accompany  me,"  said  I,  "to  a  house 
not  far  from  here,  you  can  see  for  yourself. ' ' 

He  looked  at  me  awhile  with  hesitating  eyes  ; 
and  then,  tossing  away  his  cigar,  which  was 
not  yet  a  quarter  smoked,  "  Here  goes  !  "  said 
he,  and  with  perfect  politeness  offered  me  his 
arm.  I  was  wise  enough  to  take  it ;  to  prolong 
our  walk  as  far  as  possible,  by  more  than  one 
excursion  from  the  shortest  line  ;  and  to  beguile 
the  way  with  that  sort  of  conversation  which 
should  prove  to  him  indubitably  from  what 
station  in  society  I  sprang.  By  the  time  we 
reached  the  door  of  my  lodging  I  felt  sure  I 
had  confirmed  his  interest,  and  might  venture, 
before  I  turned  the  pass-key,  to  beseech  him  to 
moderate  his  voice  and  to  tread  softly.  He 
promised  to  obey  me  ;  and  I  admitted  him  into 
the  passage  and  thence  into  my  sitting-room, 
which  was  fortunately  next  the  door. 

"And  now,"  said  he,  when  with  trembling 
fingers  I  had  lighted  a  candle,  "what  is  the 
meaning  of  all  this  %  " 


1 1 8  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LAD  Y. 

"I  wish  yon,"  said  I,  speaking  with  great 
difficulty,  "to  help  me  out  with  these  boxes — 
and  I  wish  nobody  to  know." 

He  took  up  the  candle.  ' '  And  I  wish  to  see 
your  face,"  he  said. 

I  turned  back  my  veil  without  a  word,  and 
looked  at  him  with  every  appearance  of  resolve 
that  I  could  summon  up.  For  some  time  he 
gazed  into  my  face,  still  holding  up  the  candle. 
"Well,"  said  heat  last,  "and  where  do  you 
wish  them  taken  % ' ' 

I  knew  that  I  had  gained  my  point ;  and  it 
was  with  a  tremor  in  my  voice  that  I  replied, 
' '  I  had  thought  we  might  carry  them  between 
us  to  the  corner  of  Euston  Eoad,"  said  I, 
1 '  where,  even  at  this  late  hour,  we  may  still 
iind  a  cab." 

"Very  good,"  was  his  reply  ;  and  he  imme- 
diately hoisted  the  heavier  of  my  trunks  upon 
his  shoulder,  and  taking  one  handle  of  the 
second,  signed  to  me  to  help  him  at  the  other 
end.  In  this  order  we  made  good  our  retreat 
from  the  house,  and  without  the  least  adven- 
ture, drew  pretty  near  to  the  corner  of  Euston 
Road.  Before  a  house,  where  there  was  a  light 
still  burning,  my  companion  paused.  "Let 
us  here,"  said  he,  "  set  down  our  boxes,  while 
we  go  forward  to  the  end  of  the  street  in  quest 
of  a  cab.  By  doing  so,  we  can  still  keep  an 
eye  upon  their  safety ;  and  we  avoid  the  very 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  119 

extraordinary  figure  we  should  otherwise  pre- 
sent— a  young  man,  a  young  lady,  and  a  mass 
of  baggage,  standing  castaway  at  midnight  on 
the  streets  of  London."  So  it  was  done,  and 
the  event  proved  him  to  be  wise  ;  for  long 
before  there  was  any  word  of  a  cab,  a  police- 
man appeared  upon  the  scene,  turned  upon  us 
the  full  glare  of  his  lantern,  and  hung  sus- 
piciously behind  us  in  a  doorway. 

' '  There  seem  to  be  no  cabs  about,  police- 
man," said  my  champion,  with  affected  cheer- 
fulness. But  the  constable's  answer  was  un- 
gracious ;  and  as  for  the  offer  of  a  cigar,  with 
which  this  rebuff  was  most  unwisely  followed 
up,  he  refused  it  point-blank,  and  without  the 
least  civility.  The  young  gentleman  looked  at 
me  with  a  warning  grimace,  and  there  we  con- 
tinued to  stand,  on  the  edge  of  the  pavement, 
in  the  beating  rain,  and  with  the  policeman 
still  silently  watching  our  movements  from  the 
doorway. 

At  last,  and  after  a  delay  that  seemed  inter- 
minable, a  four-wheeler  appeared  lumbering 
along  in  the  mud,  and  was  instantly  hailed  by 
my  companion.  "Just  pull  up  here,  will 
you  V9  he  cried.  "We  have  some  baggage  up 
the  street." 

And  now  came  the  hitch  of  our  adventure  ; 
for  when  the  policeman,  still  closely  following 
us,  beheld  my  two  boxes  lying  in  the  rain,  he 


120  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

arose  from  mere  suspicion  to  a  kind  of  certitude 
of  something  evil.  The  light  in  the  house  had 
been  extinguished  ;  the  whole  frontage  of  the 
street  was  dark ;  there  was  nothing  to  explain 
the  presence  of  these  unguarded  trunks ;  and 
no  two  innocent  people  were  ever,  I  believe, 
detected  in  such  questionable  circumstances. 

"Where  have  these  things  come  from?" 
asked  the  policeman,  flashing  his  light  full  into 
my  companion' s  face. 

u  Why,  from  that  house  of  course,"  replied 
the  young  gentleman,  hastily  shouldering  a 
trunk. 

The  policeman  whistled  and  turned  to  look 
at  the  dark  windows ;  he  then  took  a  step 
toward  the  door,  as  though  to  knock,  a  course 
which  had  infallibly  proved  our  ruin  ;  but  see- 
ing us  already  hurrying  down  the  street  under 
our  double  burden,  thought  better  or  worse  of 
it,  and  followed  in  our  wake. 

' '  For  God's  sake,"  whispered  my  companion, 
"  tell  me  where  to  drive  to." 

"  Anywhere,"  I  replied,  with  anguish.  "I 
have  no  idea.     Anywhere  you  like." 

Thus  it  befell  that,  when  the  boxes  had  been 
stowed  and  I  had  already  entered  the  cab,  my 
deliverer  called  out  in  clear  tones  the  address 
of  the  house  in  which  we  are  now  seated.  The 
policeman,  I  could  see,  was  staggered.  This 
neighborhood,  so  retired,    so  aristocratic,  was 


THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY.  12 1 

far  from  what  lie  had  expected.  For  all  that, 
he  took  the  number,  and  spoke  for  a  few 
seconds  and  with  a  decided  manner,  in  the  cab- 
man's  ear. 

' '  What  can  he  have  said  % "  I  gasped,  as  soon 
as  the  cab  had  rolled  away. 

"  I  can  very  well  imagine,"  replied  my  cham- 
pion ;  ' '  and  I  can  assure  you  that  you  are  now 
condemned  to  go  where  I  have  said  ;  for,  should 
we  attempt  to  change  our  destination  by  the 
way,  the  jarvey  will  drive  us  straight  to  a  police 
office.  Let  me  compliment  you  on  your  nerves, ' ' 
he  added.  "  I  have  had,  I  believe,  the  most 
horrible  fright  of  my  existence." 

But  my  nerves,  which  he  so  much  misjudged, 
were  in  so  strange  a  disarray  that  speech  was 
now  become  impossible  ;  and  we  made  the  drive 
thenceforward  in  unbroken  silence.  When  we 
arrived  before  the  door  of  our  destination,  the 
young  gentleman  alighted,  opened  it  with  a 
pass-key  like  one  who  was  at  home,  bade  the 
driver  carry  the  trunks  into  the  hall,  and  dis- 
missed him  with  a  handsome  fee.  He  then  led 
me  into"  this  dining-room,  looking  nearly  as  you 
behold  it,  but  with  certain  marks  of  bachelor 
occupancy,  and  hastened  to  pour  out  a  glass  of 
wine,  which  he  insisted  on  my  drinking.  As 
soon  as  I  could  find  my  voice,  "In  God's 
name,"  I  cried,  "where  am  I?" 

He  then  told  me  I  was  in  his  house,  where  I 


122  THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY. 

was  very  welcome,  and  had  no  more  urgent 
business  than  to  rest  myself  and  recover  my 
spirits.  As  he  spoke  he  offered  me  another 
glass  of  wine,  of  which,  indeed,  I  stood  in  great 
want,  for  I  was  faint,  and  inclined  to  be  hyster- 
ical. Then  he  sat  down  beside  the  fire,  lighted 
another  cigar,  and  for  some  time  observed  me 
curiously  and  in  silence. 

' '  And  now, ' '  said  he,  ' w  that  you  have  some- 
what restored  yourself,  will  you  be  kind  enough 
to  tell  me  in  what  sort  of  crime  I  have  become 
a  partner  ?  Are  you  murderess,  smuggler,  thief, 
or  only  the  harmless  and  domestic  moonlight 
flitter?" 

I  had  been  already  shocked  by  his  lighting  a 
cigar  without  permission,  for  I  had  not  forgot- 
ten the  one  he  threw  away  on  our  first  meeting  ; 
and  now,  at  these  explicit  insults,  I  resolved  at 
once  to  reconquer  his  esteem.  The  judgment 
of  the  world  I  have  consistently  despised,  but 
I  had  already  begun  to  set  a  certain  value  on 
the  good  opinion  of  my  entertainer.  Beginning 
with  a  note  of  pathos,  but  soon  brightening 
into  my  habitual  vivacity  and  humor,  I  rapidly 
narrated  the  circumstances  of  my  birth,  my 
flight,  and  subsequent  misfortunes.  He  heard 
me  to  an  end  in  silence,  gravely  smoking. 
"Miss  Fanshawe,"  said  he,  when  I  had  done, 
"you  are  a  very  comical  and  most  enchanting 
creature ;  and  I  see  nothing  for  it  but  that  I 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  1 23 

should  return  to-morrow  morning  and  satisfy 
your  landlady' s  demands." 

"  You  strangely  misinterpret  my  confi- 
dence," was  my  reply  ;  "and  if  you  had  at  all 
appreciated  my  character,  you  would  under- 
stand that  I  can  take  no  money  at  your 
hands." 

"  Your  landlady  will  doubtless  not  be  so  par- 
ticular," he  returned;  "neither  do  I  at  all 
despair  of  persuading  even  your  unconquerable 
self.  I  desire  you  to  examine  me  with  critical 
indulgence.  My  name  is  Henry  Luxmore, 
Lord  Southw ark's  second  son.  I  possess  nine 
thousand  a  year,  the  house  in  which  we  are 
now  sitting  and  seven  others  in  the  best  neigh- 
borhoods in  town.  I  do  not  believe  I  am  repuls- 
ive to  the  eye,  and  as  for  my  character,  you 
have  seen  me  under  trial.  I  think  you  simply 
the  most  original  of  created  beings  ;  I  need  not 
tell  you  what  you  know  very  well,  that  you  are 
ravishingly  pretty  ;  and  I  have  nothing  more  to 
add,  excej)t  that,  foolish  as  it  may  appear,  I 
am  already  head  over  heels  in  love  with  you." 

"Sir,"  said  I,  "I  am  prepared  to  be  mis- 
judged ;  but  while  I  continue  to  accept  your 
hospitality  that  fact  alone  should  be  enough 
to  protect  me  from  insult." 

"Pardon  me,"  said  he;  "I  offer  you  mar- 
riage." And  leaning  back  in  his  chair  he 
replaced  his  cigar  between  his  lips. 


124  THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY, 

I  own  I  was  confounded  by  an  offer,  not  only 
so  unprepared,  but  couched  in  terms  so  singu- 
lar. But  lie  knew  very  well  how  to  obtain  his 
purposes,  for  he  was  not  only  handsome  in 
person,  but  his  very  coolness  had  a  charm  ;  and 
to  make  a  long  story  short,  a  fortnight  later  I 
became  the  wife  of  the  Honorable  Henry  Lux- 
more. 

For  nearly  twenty  years  I  now  led  a  life  of 
almost  perfect  quiet.  My  Henry  had  his  weak- 
nesses ;  I  was  twice  driven  to  flee  from  his  roof, 
but  not  for  long  ;  for  though  he  was  easily  over- 
excited, his  nature  was  placable  below  the  sur- 
face, and  with  all  his  faults,  I  loved  him  ten- 
derly. At  last  he  was  taken  from  me  ;  and 
such  is  the  power  of  self-deception,  and  so 
strange  are  the  whims  of  the  dying,  he  actually 
assured  me,  with  his  latest  breath,  that  he  for- 
gave the  violence  of  my  temper  ! 

There  was  but  one  pledge  of  the  marriage, 
my  daughter  Clara.  She  had,  indeed,  inherited 
a  shadow  of  her  father's  failing  ;  but  in  all 
tilings  else,  unless  my  partial  eyes  deceived  me, 
she  derived  her  qualities  from  me,  and  might 
be  called  my  moral  image.  On  my  side,  Avhat- 
ever  else  I  may  have  done  amiss,  as  a  mother  I 
was  above  reproach.  Here,  then,  was  surely 
every  promise  for  the  future  ;  here,  at  last,  was 
a  relation  in  which  I  might  hope  to  taste  repose. 
But  it  was  not  to  be.     You  will  hardly  credit 


THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY.  125 

me  when  I  inform  you  that  she  ran  away  from 
home  ;  yet  such  was  the  case.  Some  whim 
about  oppressed  nationalities — Ireland,  Poland, 
and  the  like — has  turned  her  brain  ;  and  if  you 
should  anywhere  encounter  a  young  lady  (I 
must  say,  of  remarkable  attractions)  answering 
to  the  name  of  Luxmore,  Lake,  or  Fonblanque 
(for  I  am  told  she  uses  these  indifferently,  as 
well  as  many  others),  tell  her  for  me,  that  I  for- 
give her  cruelty,  and  though  I  will  never  more 
behold  her  face,  I  am  at  any  time  prepared  to 
make  her  a  liberal  allowance. 

On  the  death  of  Mr.  Luxmore,  I  sought 
oblivion  in  the  details  of  business.  I  believe  I 
have  mentioned  that  seven  mansions,  besides 
this,  formed  part  of  Mr.  Luxmore' s  property  : 
I  have  found  them  seven  white  elephants.  The 
greed  of  tenants,  the  dishonesty  of  solicitors, 
and  the  incapacity  that  sits  upon  the  bench, 
have  combined  together  to  make  these  houses 
the  burden  of  my  life.  I  had  no  sooner,  indeed, 
begun  to  look  into  these  matters  for  myself, 
than  I  discovered  so  many  injustices  and  met 
with  so  much  studied  incivility,  that  I  was 
plunged  into  a  long  series  of  law  suits,  some  of 
which  are  pending  to  this  day.  You  must  have 
heard  my  name  already ;  I  am  the  Mrs.  Lux- 
more of  the  Law  Reports  :  a  strange  destiny, 
indeed,  for  one  born  with  an  almost  cowardly 
desire  for  peace  !     But  I  am  of  the  stamp  of 


126  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

those  who,  when  they  have  once  begun  a  task, 
will  rather  die  than  leave  their  duty  unfulfilled. 
I  have  met  with  every  obstacle  :  insolence  and 
ingratitude  from  my  own  lawyers  ;  in  my 
adversaries,  that  fault  of  obstinacy  which  is  to 
me  perhaps  the  most  distasteful  in  the  calen- 
dar ;  from  the  bench,  civility  indeed — always,  I 
must  allow,  civility — but  never  a  spark  of  inde- 
pendence, never  that  knowledge  of  the  law  and 
love  of  justice  which  we  have  a  right  to  look  for 
in  a  judge,  the  most  august  of  human  officers. 
And  still,  against  all  these  odds,  I  have  undis- 
suadably  persevered. 

It  was  after  the  loss  of  one  of  my  innumer- 
able cases  (a  subject  on  which  I  will  not  dwell) 
that  it  occurred  to  me  to  make  a  melancholy 
pilgrimage  to  my  various  houses.  Four  were 
at  that  time  tenantless  and  closed,  like  pillars 
of  salt,  commemorating  the  corruption  of  the 
age  and  the  decline  of  private  virtue.  Three 
were  occupied  by  persons  who  had  wearied  me 
by  every  conceivable  unjust  demand  and  legal 
subterfuge — persons  whom,  at  that  very  hour, 
I  was  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  turn  into  the 
street.  This  was  perhaps  the  sadder  spectacle 
of  the  two  ;  and  my  heart  grew  hot  within  me 
to  behold  them  occupying,  in  my  very  teeth, 
and  with  an  insolent  ostentation,  these  hand- 
some structures  which  were  as  much  mine  as 
the  flesh  upon  my  body. 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  127 

One  more  house  remained  for  me  to  visit,  that 
in  which  we  now  are.  I  had  let  it  (for  at  that 
period  I  lodged  in  a  hotel,  the  life  that  I  have 
always  preferred)  to  a  Colonel  Geraldine,  a  gen- 
tleman attached  to  Prince  Florizel  of  Bohemia, 
whom  you  must  certainly  have  heard  of  ;  and 
I  had  supposed,  from  the  character  and  posi- 
tion of  my  tenant,  that  here,  at  least,  I  was  safe 
against  annoyance.  What  was  my  surprise  to 
find  this  house  also  shuttered  and  apparently 
deserted  !  I  will  not  deny  that  I  was  offended  ; 
I  conceived  that  a  house,  like  a  yacht,  was  bet- 
ter to  be  kept  in  commission ;  and  I  promised 
myself  to  bring  the  matter  before  my  solicitor 
the  following  morning.  Meanwhile  the  sight 
recalled  my  fancy  naturally  to  the  past ;  and 
yielding  to  the  tender  influence  of  sentiment,  I 
sat  down  opposite  the  door  upon  the  garden 
parapet.  It  was  August,  and  a  sultry  after- 
noon, but  that  spot  is  sheltered,  as  you  may 
observe  by  daylight,  under  the  branches  of  a 
spreading  chestnut ;  the  square,  too,  was 
deserted  ;  there  was  a  sound  of  distant  music 
in  the  air  ;  and  all  combined  to  plunge  me  into 
that  most  agreeable  of  states,  which  is  neither 
happiness  nor  sorrow,  but  shares  the  poignancy 
of  both. 

From  this  I  was  recalled  by  the  arrival  of  a 
large  van,  very  handsomely  appointed,  drawn 
by  valuable  horses,  mounted  by  several  men  of 


128  THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY. 

an  appearance  more  than  decent,  and  bearing 
on  its  panels,  instead  of  a  trader' s  name,  a  coat- 
of-arms  » too  modest  to  be  deciphered  from 
where  I  sat.  It  drew  np  before  my  house,  the 
door  of  which  was  immediately  opened  by  one 
of  the  men.  His  companions — I  counted  seven 
of  them  in  all— proceeded,  with  disciplined 
activity,  to  take  from  the  van  and  carry  into 
the  house  a  variety  of  hampers,  bottle-baskets, 
and  boxes,  such  as  are  designed  for  plate  and 
napery.  The  windows  of  the  dining-room  were 
thrown  widely  open,  as  though  to  air  it ;  and 
I  saw  some  of  those  within  laying  the  table  for 
a  meal.  Plainly,  I  concluded,  my  tenant  was 
about  to  return  ;  and  while  still  determined  to 
submit  to  no  aggression  on  my  rights,  I  was 
gratified  by  the  number  and  discipline  of  his 
attendants,  and  the  quiet  profusion  that 
appeared  to  reign  in  his  establishment.  I  was 
still  so  thinking  when,  to  my  extreme  surprise, 
the  windows  and  shutters  of  the  dining-room 
were  once  more  closed  ;  the  men  began  to  reap- 
pear from  the  interior  and  resume  their  sta- 
tions on  the  van  ;  the  last  closed  the  door 
behind  his  exit ;  the  van  drove  away  ;  and  the 
house  was  once  more  left  to  itself,  looking 
blindly  on  the  square  with  shuttered  windows, 
as  though  the  whole  affair  had  been  a  vision. 

It  was  no  vision,  however  ;  for,  as  I  rose  to 
my  feet  and  thus  brought  my  eyes  a  little 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  1 29 

nearer  to  the  level  of  the  fanlight  over  the 
door,  I  saw  that,  though  the  day  had  still  some 
hours  to  run,  the  hall  lamps  had  been  lighted 
and  left  burning.  Plainly,  then,  guests  were 
expected,  and  not  expected  before  night.  For 
whom,  I  asked  myself  with  indignation,  were 
such  secret  preparations  likely  to  be  made  % 
Although  no  prude,  I  am  a  woman  of  decided 
views  upon  morality ;  if  my  house,  to  which 
my  husband  had  brought  me,  was  to  serve  in 
the  character  of  a  petite  mat  son,  I  saw  myself 
forced,  however  unwillingly,  into  a  new  course 
of  litigation  ;  and,  determined  to  return  and 
know  the  worst,  I  hastened  to  my  hotel  for 
dinner. 

I  was  at  my  post  by  ten.  The  night  was 
clear  and  quiet ;  the  moon  rode  very  high  and 
put  the  lamps  to  shame ;  and  the  shadow 
below  the  chestnut  was  black  as  ink.  Here, 
then,  I  ensconsed  myself  on  the  low  parapet, 
with  my  back  against  the  railings,  face  to  face 
with  the  moonlit  front  of  my  old  home,  and 
ruminating  gently  on  the  past.  Time  fled; 
eleven  struck  on  all  the  city  clocks  ;  and  pres- 
ently after  I  was  aware  of  the  approach  of  a 
gentleman  of  stately  and  agreeable  demeanor. 
He  was  smoking  as  he  walked  ;  his  light  paletot, 
which  was  open,  did  not  conceal  his  evening 
clothes  ;  and  he  bore  himself  with  a  serious 
grace  that  immediately  awakened  my  atten- 


130  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

tiom  Before  the  door  of  this  house  he  took  a 
pass-key  from  his  pocket,  quietly  admitted 
himself,  and  disappeared  into  the  lamplight ed 
hall. 

He  was  scarcely  gone  when  I  observed 
another  and  a  much  younger  man  approaching 
hastily  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  square. 
Considering  the  season  of  the  year  and  the 
genial  mildness  of  the  night,  he  was  somewhat 
closely  muffled  up  ;  and  as  he  came,  for  all  his 
hurry,  he  kept  looking  nervously  behind  him. 
Arrived  before  my  door,  he  halted  and  set  one 
foot  upon  the  step,  as  though  about  to  enter  ; 
then,  with  a  sudden  change,  he  turned  and 
began  to  hurry  away  ;  halted  a  second  time,  as 
if  in  painful  indecision  ;  and  lastly,  with  a 
violent  gesture,  wheeled  about,  returned 
straight  to  the  door,  and  rapped  upon  the 
knocker.  He  was  almost  immediately  admit- 
ted by  the  first  arrival. 

My  curiosity  was  now  broad  awake.  I  made 
myself  as  small  as  I  could  in  the  very  densest 
of  the  shadow,  and  waited  for  the  sequel.  K"or 
had  I  long  to  wait.  From  the  same  side  of  the 
square  a  second  young  man  made  his  appear- 
ance, walking  slowly  and  softly,  and  like  the 
first,  muffled  to  the  nose.  Before  the  house  he 
paused  ;  looked  all  about  him  with  a  swift  and 
comprehensive  glance  ;  and  seeing  the  square 
lie  empty  in  the  moon  and  lamplight,   leaned 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  131 

far  across  the  area  railings  and  appeared  to 
listen  to  what  was  passing  in  the  house.  From 
the  dining-room  there  came  the  report  of  a 
champagne  cork,  and  following  upon  that,  the 
sound  of  rich  and  manly  laughter.  The  listener 
took  heart  of  grace,  produced  a  key,  unlocked 
the  rfrea  gate,  shut  it  noiselessly  behind  him, 
and  descended  the  stair.  Just  when  his  head 
had  reached  the  level  of  the  pavement,  he 
turned  half  round  and  once  more  raked  the 
square  with  a  suspicious  eyeshot.  The  mufllings 
had  fallen  lower  round  his  neck  ;  the  moon 
shone  full  upon  him  ;  and  I  was  startled  to  ob- 
serve the  pallor  and  passionate  agitation  of  his 
face. 

I  could  remain  no  longer  passive.  Persuaded 
that  something  deadly  was  afoot,  I  crossed  the 
roadway  and  drew  near  Xh^  area  railings.  There 
was  no  one  below  ;  the  man  must  therefore  have 
entered  the  house,  with  what  purpose  I  dreaded 
to  imagine.  I  have  at  no  part  of  my  career 
lacked  courage  ;  and  now,  finding  the  area  gate 
was  merely  laid  to,  I  pushed  it  gently  open  and 
descended  the  stairs.  The  kitchen  door  of  the 
house,  like  the  area  gate,  was  closed  but  not 
fastened.  It  flashed  upon  me  that  the  criminal 
was  thus  preparing  his  escape  ;  and  the  thought, 
as  it  confirmed  the  worst  of  my  suspicions,  lent 
me  new  resolve.  I  entered  the  house  ;  and 
being  now  quite  reckless  of  my  life,  I  shut  and 
locked  the  door. 


132  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

From  the  dining-room  above  I  could  hear  the 
pleasant  tones  of  a  voice  in  easy  conversation. 
On  the  ground  floor  all  was  not  only  profoundly 
silent,  but  the  darkness  seemed  to  weigh  upon 
my  eyes.  Here,  then,  I  stood  for  some  time, 
having  thrust  myself  uncalled  into  the  utmost 
peril,  and  being  destitute  of  any  power  to  help 
or  interfere.  ]NTor  will  I  deny  that  fear  had 
begun  already  to  assail  me,  when  I  became 
aware,  all  at  once  and  as  though  by  some  im- 
mediate but  silent  incandescence,  of  a  certain 
glimmering  of  light  upon  the  passage  floor. 
Toward  this  I  groped  my  way  with  infinite 
precaution  ;  and  having  come  at  length  as  far 
as  the  angle  of  the  corridor,  beheld  the  door  of 
the  butler's  pantry  standing  just  ajar  and  a 
narrow  thread  of  brightness  falling  from  the 
chink.  Creeping  still  closer,  I  put  my  eyes  to 
the  aperture.  The  man  sat  within  upon  a  chair, 
listening,  I  could  see,  with  the  most  rapt  atten- 
tion. On  a  table  before  him  he  had  laid  a 
watch,  a  pair  of  steel  revolvers,  and  a  bull's- 
eye  lantern.  For  one  second  many  contra- 
dictory theories  and  projects  whirled  together 
in  my  head  ;  the  next,  I  had  slammed  the  door 
and  turned  the  key  upon  the  malefactor.  Sur- 
prised at  my  own  decision,  I  stood  and  panted, 
leaning  on  the  wall.  From  within  the  pantry 
not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard  ;  the  man,  what- 
ever he  was,  had  accepted  his  fate  without  a 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  133 

struggle,  and  now,  as  I  hugged  myself  to  fancy, 
sat  frozen  with  terror  and  looking  for  the  worst 
to  follow.  I  promised  myself  that  he  should 
not  be  disappointed  ;  and  the  better  to  com- 
plete my  task,  I  turned  to  ascend  the  stairs. 

The  situation,  as  I  groped  my  way  to  the  first 
floor,  appealed  to  me  suddenly  by  my  strong 
sense  of  humor.  Here  was  I,  the  owner  of  the 
house,  burglariously  present  in  its  walls  ;  and 
there,  in  the  dining-room,  were  two  gentlemen, 
unknown  to  me,  seated  complacently  at  supper, 
and  only  saved  by  my  promptitude  from  some 
surprising  or  deadly  interruption.  It  were 
strange  if  I  could  not  manage  to  extract  the 
matter  of  amusement  from  so  unusual  a  situa- 
tion. 

Behind  this  dining-room,  there  is  a  small 
apartment  intended  for  a  library.  It  was  to 
this  that  I  cautiously  groped  my  way  ;  and  you 
will  see  how  fortune  had  exactly  served  me. 
The  weather,  I  have  said,  was  sultry  :  in  order 
to  ventilate  the  dining-room  and  yet  preserve  the 
uninhabited  appearance  of  the  mansion  to  the 
front,  the  window  of  the  library  had  been 
widely  opened  and  the  door  of  communication 
between  the  two  apartments  left  ajar.  To  this 
interval  I  now  applied  my  eye. 

Wax  tapers,  set  in  silver  candlesticks,  shed 
their  chastened  brightness  on  the  damask  of 
the  tablecloth  and  the  remains  of  a  cold  colla- 


134  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

tion  of  the  rarest  delicacy.  The  two  gentlemen 
had  finished  supper,  and  were  now  trifling  with 
cigars  and  maraschino  ;  while  in  a  silver  spirit 
lamp,  coffee  of  the  most  captivating  fragrance 
was  preparing  in  the  fashion  of  the  East.  The 
elder  of  the  two,  he  who  had  first  arrived,  was 
placed  directly  facing  me ;  the  other  was  set 
on  his  left  hand.  Both,  like  the  man  in  the 
butler's  pantry,  seemed  to  be  intently  listening  ; 
and  on  the  face  of  the  second  I  thought  I  could 
perceive  the  marks  of  fear.  Oddly  enough, 
however,  when  they  came  to  speak,  the  parts 
were  found  to  be  reversed. 

"  I  assure  you,"  said  the  elder  gentleman, 
"  I  not  only  heard  the  slamming  of  a  door, 
but  the  sound  of  very  guarded  foot-steps." 

"Your  highness  was  certainly  deceived," 
replied  the  other.  "lam  endowed  with  the 
acutest  hearing,  and  I  can  swear  that  not  a 
mouse  has  rustled."  Yet  the  pallor  and  con- 
traction of  his  features  were  in  total  discord 
with  the  tenor  of  his  words. 

His  highness  (whom,  of  course,  I  readily 
divined  to  be  Prince  Florizel)  looked  at  his  com- 
panion for  the  least  fraction  of  a  second  ;  and 
though  nothing  shook  the  easy  quiet  of  his  atti- 
tude, I  could  see  that  he  was  far  from  being 
duped.  "It  is  well,"  said  he  ;  "let  us  dis- 
miss the  topic.  And  noAv,  sir,  that  I  have  very 
freely  explained  the  sentiments  by  which  I  am 


THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY.  135 

directed,  let  me  ask  you,  according  to  your 
promise,  to  imitate  my  frankness." 

"  I  have  heard  you,"  replied  the  other,  "  with 
great  interest." 

"With  singular  patience,"  said  the  prince 
politely. 

' '  Ay,  your  highness,  and  with  unlooked-for 
sympathy,"  returned  the  young  man.  "I 
know  not  how  to  tell  the  change  that  has  befal- 
len me.  You  have,  I  must  suppose,  a  charm, 
to  which  even  your  enemies  are  subject."  He 
looked  at  the  clock  on  the  mantel- piece  and  visi- 
bly blanched.  "  So  late  !  "  he  cried.  "Your 
highness — God  knows  I  am  speaking  from  the 
heart — before    it     be    too    late,     leave     this 


The  prince  glanced  once  more  at  his  compan- 
ion, and  then  very  deliberately  shook  the  ash 
from  his  cigar.  "  That  is  a  strange  remark," 
said  he  ;  "  and  a  propos  de  bottes,  I  never  con- 
tinue a  cigar  when  once  the  ash  is  fallen  ;  the 
spell  breaks,  the  soul  of  the  flavor  flies  away, 
and  there  remains  but  the  dead  body  of  tobacco  ; 
and  I  make  it  a  rule  to  throw  away  that  husk 
and  choose  another."  He  suited  the  action  to 
the  words. 

"Do  not  trifle  with  my  appeal,"  resumed  the 
young  man  in  tones  that  trembled  with  emotion. 
"  It  is  made  at  the  price  of  my  honor  and  to 
the  peril  of  my  life.     Go — go  now  !   lose  not  a 


136  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

moment ;  and  if  yon  have  any  kindness  for  a 
young  man,  miserably  deceived  indeed,  but 
not  devoid  of  better  sentiments,  look  not  behind 
you  as  you  leave." 

"Sir,"  said  the  prince,  "I  am  here  upon 
your  honor;  I  assure  you  upon  mine  that  I 
shall  continue  to  rely  upon  that  safeguard. 
The  coffee  is  ready  ;  I  must  again  trouble  you, 
I  fear."  And  with  a  courteous  movement  of 
the  hand,  he  seemed  to  invite  his  companion  to 
pour  out  the  coffee. 

The  unhappy  young  man  rose  from  his  seat. 
"I  appeal  to  you,"  he  cried,  "by  every  holy 
sentiment,  in  mercy  to  me,  if  not  in  pity  to 
yourself,  begone  before  it  is  too  late." 

"  Sir,"  replied  the  prince,  "lam  not  readily 
accessible  to  fear  ;  and  if  there  is  one  defect  to 
which  I  must  plead  guilty,  it  is  that  of  a  curi- 
ous disposition.  You  go  the  wrong  way  about 
to  make  me  leave  this  house,  in  which  I  play 
the  part  of  your  entertainer ;  and,  suffer  me  to 
add,  young  man,  if  any  peril  threaten  us,  it 
was  of  your  contriving,  not  of  mine." 

' '  Alas,  you  do  not  know  to  what  you  con- 
demn me,"  cried  the  other.  "But  I  at  least 
will  have  no  hand  in  it,"  With  these  words  he 
carried  his  hand  to  his  pocket,  hastily  swal- 
lowed the  contents  of  a  phial,  and,  with  the 
very  act,  reeled  back  and  fell  across  his  chair 
upon  the  floor.     The  prince  left  his  place  and 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  137 

came  and  stood  above  him,  where  he  lay  con- 
vulsed upon  the  carpet.  "Poor  moth!"  I 
heard  his  highness  murmur.  "Alas,  poor 
moth  !  must  Ave  again  inquire  which  is  the  more 
fatal — weakness  or  wickedness  \  And  can  a 
sympathy  with  ideas,  surely  not  ignoble  in 
themselves,  conduct  a  man  to  this  dishonorable 
death?" 

By  this  time  I  had  pushed  the  door  open  and 
walked  into  the  room.  "  Your  highness,"  said 
I,  "this  is  no  time  for  moralizing  ;  with  a  little 
promptness  we  may  save  this  creature's  life  ; 
and  as  for  the  other,  he  need  cause  you  no  con- 
cern, for  I  have  him  safely  under  lock  and 
key." 

The  prince  had  turned  about  upon  my 
entrance,  and  regarded  me  certainly  with  no 
alarm,  but  with  a  profundity  of  wonder  which 
almost  robbed  me  of  my  self-possession.  "  My 
dear  madam,"  he  cried  at  last,  "and  who  the 
devil  are  you  ? ' ' 

I  was  already  on  the  floor  beside  the  dying 
man.  I  had,  of  course,  no  idea  with  what  drug 
he  had  attempted  his  life,  and  I  was  forced  to 
try  him  with  a  variety  of  antidotes.  Here  were 
both  oil  and  vinegar,  for  the  prince  had  done 
the  young  man  the  honor  of  compounding  for 
him  one  of  his  celebrated  salads  ;  and  of  each 
of  these  I  administered  from  a  quarter  to  half 
a  pint,  with  no  apparent  efficacy.    I  next  plied 


138  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

him  with  the  hot  coffee,  of  which  there  may 
have  been  near  npon  a  quart. 

' '  Have  yon  no  milk  ? "  I  inquired. 

"  I  fear,  madam,  that  milk  has  been  omitted," 
returned  the  prince. 

"  Salt,  then,"  said  I;  "  salt  is  a  revulsive. 
Pass  the  salt." 

"And  possibly  the  mustard?"  asked  his 
highness,  as  he  offered  me  the  contents  of  the 
various  salt-cellars  poured  together  on  a  plate. 

uAh,"  cried  I,  "the  thought  is  excellent! 
Mix  me  about  half  a  pint  of  mustard,  drink- 
ably  dilute." 

Whether  it  was  the  salt  or  the  mustard,  or 
the  mere  combination  of  so  many  subversive 
agents,  as  soon  as  the  last  had  been  poured 
over  his  throat,  the  young  sufferer  obtained; 
relief. 

"There!"  I  exclaimed,  with  natural  tri 
umph,  "  I  have  saved  a  life  !  " 

"And  yet,  madam,"  returned  the  prince, 
' '  your  mercy  may  be  cruelty  disguised.  "Wlier& 
the  honor  is  lost,  it  is,  at  least,  superfluous  to 
prolong  the  life." 

' '  If  you  had  led  a  life  as  changeable  as  mine, 
your  highness,"  I  replied,  "you  would  hold  a 
very  different  opinion.  For  my  part,  and  after 
whatever  extremity  of  misfortune  or  disgrace, 
I  should  still  count  to-morrow  worth  a  trial." 

"You  speak  as  a  lady,  madam,"  said  the 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  139 

prince;  "and  for  such  yon  speak  the  truth. 
Bnt  to  men  there  is  permitted  such  a  field  of 
license,  and  the  good  behavior  asked  of  them 
is  at  once  so  easy  and  so  little,  that  to  fail  in 
that  is  to  fall  beyond  the  reach  of  pardon.  Bnt 
will  yon  suffer  me  to  repeat  a  question,  put  to 
you  at  first,  I  am  afraid,  with  some  defect  of 
courtesy  ;  and  to  ask  you  once  more,  who  you 
are  and  how  I  have  the  honor  of  your  com- 
pany?" 

' '  I  am  the  proprietor  of  the  house  in  which 
we  stand,"  said  I. 

"And  still  I  am  at  fault,"  returned  the 
prince. 

But  at  that  moment  the  timepiece  on  the 
mantel-shelf  began  to  strike  the  hour  of  twelve  ; 
and  the  young  man,  raising  himself  upon  one 
elbow,  with  an  expression  of  desj)air  and  hor- 
ror that  I  have  never  seen  excelled,  cried 
lamentably  :  "  Midnight  \  O  just  God."  We 
stood  frozen  to  our  places,  while  the  tingling 
hammer  of  the  timepiece  measured  the  remain- 
ing strokes  ;  nor  had  we  yet  stirred,  so  tragic 
had  been  the  tones  of  the  young  man,  when 
the  various  bells  of  London  began  in  turn  to 
declare  the  hour.  The  timepiece  was  inaudible 
beyond  the  walls  of  the  chamber  where  we 
stood  ;  but  the  second  pulsation  of  Big  Ben 
had  scarcely  throbbed  into  the  night,  before  a 
sharp  detonation  rang  about  the  house.     The 


140  THE  SPIRITED  OID  LADY. 

prince  sprang  for  the  door  by  which  I  had 
entered  ;  but  quick  as  he  was,  I  yet  contrived 
to  intercept  him. 

"Are  you  armed  % "  I  cried. 

"No,  madam,"  replied  he.  "You  remind 
me  appositely ;  I  will  take  the  poker." 

' '  The  man  below, ' '  said  I,  ' '  has  two  revolvers. 
Would  you  confront  him  at  such  odds  % ' ' 

He  paused,  as  though  staggered  in  his  pur- 
pose. "And  yet,  madam,"  said  he,  "we  can 
not  continue  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  what 
has  passed." 

"No!"  cried  I.  "And  who  proposes  it? 
I  am  as  curious  as  yourself,  but  let  us  rather 
send  for  the  police  ;  or,  if  your  highness  dreads 
a  scandal,  for  some  of  your  own  servants." 

"Nay,  madam,"  he  replied,  smiling,  " for  so 
brave  a  lady,  you  surprise  me.  Would  you 
have  me,  then,  send  others  where  I  fear  to  go 
myself?" 

"You  are  perfectly  right,"  said  I,  "and  I 
was  entirely  wrong.  Go,  in  God's  name,  and 
I  will  hold  the  candle  !  " 

Together,  therefore,  we  descended  to  the 
lower  story,  he  carrying  the  poker,  I  the  light ; 
and  together  we  approached  and  opened  the 
door  of  the  butler's  pantry.  In  some  sort,  I 
believe,  I  was  prepared  for  the  spectacle  that 
met  our  eyes  ;  I  was  prepared,  that  is,  to  find 
the  villain  dead,  but  the  rude  details  of  such  a 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  141 

violent  suicide  I  was  unable  to  endure.  The 
prince,  unshaken  by  horror  as  he  had  remained 
unshaken  by  alarm,  assisted  me  with  the  most 
respectful  gallantry  to  regain  the  dining-room. 

There  we  found  our  patient,  still,  indeed, 
deadly  pale,  but  vastly  recovered  and  already 
seated  on  a  chair.  He  held  out  both  his  hands 
with  a  most  pitiful  gesture  of  interrogation. 

"  He  is  dead,"  said  the  prince. 

"Alas!"  cried  the  young  man,  "and  it 
should  be  I !  What  do  I  do,  thus  lingering  on 
the  stage  I  have  disgraced,  while  he,  my  sure 
comrade,  blameworthy  indeed  for  much,  but 
yet  the  soul  of  fidelity,  has  judged  and  slain 
himself  for  an  involuntary  fault?  Ah.  sir," 
said  he,  "and  you  too,  madam,  without  whose 
cruel  help  I  should  be  now  beyond  the  reach  of 
my  accusing  conscience,  you  behold  in  me  the 
victim  equally  of  my  own  faults  and  virtues. 
I  was  born  a  hater  of  injustice  ;  from  my  most 
tender  years  my  blood  boiled  against  heaven 
when  I  beheld  the  sick,  and  against  men  when 
I  witnessed  the  sorrows  of  the  poor ;  the 
pauper' s  crust  stuck  in  my  throat  when  I  sat 
down  to  eat  my  dainties,  and  the  crippled  child 
has  set  me  weeping.  What  was  there  in  that, 
but  what  was  noble  ?  and  yet  observe  to  what 
a  fall  these  thoughts  have  led  me  !  Year  after 
year  this  passion  for  the  lost  besieged  me 
closer.     What  hope  was  there  in  kings  %  what 


142  7 'HE  SPIR1  TED  OLD  LAD  Y. 

hope  in  these  well-feathered  classes  that  now 
roll  in  money  %  I  had  observed  the  course  of 
history ;  I  knew  the  burgess,  our  ruler  of  to- 
day, to  be  base,  cowardly  and  dull ;  I  saw  him, 
in  every  age,  combine  to  pull  down  that  which 
was  immediately  above  and  to  prey  upon  those 
that  were  below ;  his  dullness,  I  knew,  would 
ultimately  bring  about  his  ruin ;  I  knew  his 
days  were  numbered,  and  yet  how  was  I  to 
wait  \  how  was  I  to  let  the  poor  child  shiver  in 
the  rain  \  The  better  days,  indeed,  were  com- 
ing, but  the  child  would  die  before  that.  Alas, 
your  highness,  in  surely  no  ungenerous  im- 
patience I  enrolled  myself  among  the  enemies 
of  this  unjust  and  doomed  society  ;  in  surely 
no  unnatural  desire  to  keep  the  fires  of  my 
philanthropy  alight,  I  bound  myself  by  an 
irrevocable  oath. 

"  That  oath  is  all  my  history.  To  give  free- 
dom to  posterity,  I  have  forsworn  my  own.  I 
must  attend  upon  every  signal ;  and  soon  my 
father  complained  of  my  irregular  hours  and 
turned  me  from  his  house.  I  was  engaged  in 
betrothal  to  an  honest  girl ;  from  her  also  I  had 
to  part,  for  she  was  too  shrewd  to  credit  my 
inventions  and  too  innocent  to  be  intrusted  with 
the  truth.  Behold  me,  then,  alone  with  con- 
spirators !  Alas !  as  the  years  went  on,  my 
illusions  left  me.  Surrounded  as  I  was  by  the 
fervent  disciples  and  apologists  of  revolution, 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  143 

I  beheld  tliem  daily  advance  in  confidence  and 
desperation  ;  I  beheld  myself,  npon  the  other 
hand,  and  with  an  almost  equal  regularity, 
decline  in  faith.  I  had  sacrificed  all  to  further 
that  cause  in  which  I  still  believed  ;  and  daily 
I  began  to  grow  in  doubts  if  we  were  advancing 
it  indeed.  Horrible  was  the  society  with  which 
we  warred,  but  our  own  means  were  not  less 
horrible. 

"  I  will  not  dwell  upon  my  sufferings  ;  I  will 
not  pause  to  tell  you  how,  when  I  beheld  young 
men  still  free  and  happy,  married,  fathers  of 
children,  cheerfully  toiling  at  their  work,  my 
heart  reproached  me  with  the  greatness  and 
vanity  of  my  unhappy  sacrifice.  I  will  not 
describe  to  you  how,  worn  by  poverty,  poor 
lodging,  scanty  food,  and  an  unquiet  con- 
science, my  health  began  to  fail,  and  in  the 
long  nights,  as  I  wandered  bedless  in  the  rainy 
streets,  the  most  cruel  sufferings  of  the  body  were 
added  to  the  tortures  of  the  mind.  These 
things  are  not  personal  to  me  ;  they  are  com- 
mon to  all  unfortunates  in  my  position.  An 
oath,  so  light  a  thing  to  swear,  so  grave  a  thing 
to  break  :  an  oath,  taken  in  the  heat  of  youth, 
repented  with  what  sobbings  of  the  heart,  but 
yet  in  vain  repented,  as  the  years  go  on  :  an 
oath,  that  was  once  the  very  utterance  of  the 
truth  of  God,  but  that  falls  to  be  the  symbol  of 
a  meaningless  and  empty  slavery  ;  such  is  the 


144  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

yoke  that  many  young  men  joyfully  assnme, 
and  under  whose  dead  weight  they  live  to  suffer 
worse  than  death. 

' '  It  is  not  that  I  was  patient.  I  have  begged 
to  be  released  ;  but  I  knew  too  much,  and  was 
still  refused.  I  have  fled ;  ay,  and  for  the 
time  successfully.  I  reached  Paris.  I  found 
a  lodging  in  the  Rue  St.  Jacques,  almost  oppo- 
site the  Yal  de  Grace.  My  room  was  mean  and 
bare,  but  the  sun  looked  into  it  toward  even- 
ing :  it  commanded  a  peep  of  a  green  garden  ; 
a  bird  hung  by  a  neighbor' s  window  and  made 
the  morning  beautiful ;  and  I,  who  was  sick, 
might  lie  in  bed  and  rest  myself  :  I  who  was  in 
full  revolt  against  the  principles  that  I  had 
served,  and  was  no  longer  at  the  beck  of  the 
council,  and  was  no  longer  charged  with  shame- 
ful and  revolting  tasks.  Oh  !  what  an  interval 
of  peace  was  that !  I  still  dream  at  times  that 
I  can  hear  the  note  of  my  neighbors  bird. 

"  My  money  was  running  out,  and  it  became 
necessary  that  I  should  find  employment. 
Scarcely  had  I  been  three  days  upon  the  search, 
ere  I  thought  that  I  was  being  followed.  I  made 
certain  of  the  features  of  the  man  which  were 
quite  strange  to  me,  and  turned  into  a  small 
cafe}  where  I  whiled  away  an  hour,  pretending 
to  read  the  papers,  but  inwardly  convulsed  with 
terror.  When  I  came  forth  into  the  street,  it 
was  quite  empty,  and  I  breathed  again ;   but 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY.  145 

alas,  I  had  not  turned  three  corners,  when  I 
once  more  observed  the  human  hound  pursuing 
me.  Not  an  hour  was  to  be  lost ;  timely  sub- 
mission might  yet  preserve  a  life  which  other- 
wise was  forfeited  and  dishonored  ;  and  I  fled 
with  what  speed  you  may  conceive,  to  the  Paris 
agency  of  the  society  I  served. 

"My  submission  was  accepted.  I  took  up 
once  more  the  hated  burden  of  that  life  ;  once 
more  I  was  at  the  call  of  men  whom  I  despised 
and  hated,  while  yet  I  envied  and  admired 
them.  They  were  whole-hearted  in  the  things 
they  proposed  ;  but  I,  who  had  once  been  such 
as  they,  had  fallen  from  the  brightness  of  my 
faith,  and  now  labored,  like  a  hireling,  for  the 
wages  of  a  loathed  existence.  Ay,  sir,  to  that 
I  was  condemned  ;  I  obeyed  to  continue  to  live, 
and  lived  but  to  obey. 

' '  The  last  charge  that  was  laid  upon  me  was 
the  one  which  has  to-night  so  tragically  ended. 
Boldly  telling  who  I  was,  I  was  to  request  from 
your  highness,  on  behalf  of  my  society,  a  private 
audience,  where  it  was  designed  to  murder  you. 
If  one  thing  remained  to  me  of  my  old  convic- 
tions, it  was  the  hate  of  kings  ;  and  when  this 
task  was  offered  me,  I  took  it  gladly.  Alas, 
sir,  you  triumphed.  As  we  supped,  you  gained 
upon  my  heart.  Your  character,  your  talents, 
your  designs  for  our  unhappy  country,  all  had 
been  misrepresented.     I  began  to  forget  you 


146  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

were  a  prince  ;  I  began,  all  too  feelingly,  to 
remember  that  yon  were  a  man.  As  I  saw  the 
hour  approach,  I  suffered  agonies  nntold  ;  and 
when,  at  last,  we  heard  the  slamming  of  the 
door  which  announced  in  my  nn willing  ears  the 
arrival  of  the  partner  of  my  crime,  you  will 
bear  me  out  with  what  instancy  I  besought  you 
to  depart.  You  would  not,  alas !  and  what 
could  1 1  Kill  you,  I  could  not ;  my  heart 
revolted,  my  hand  turned  back  from  such  a 
deed.  Yet  it  was  impossible  that  I  should 
suffer  you  to  stay ;  for  when  the  hour  struck 
and  my  companion  came,  true  to  appointment, 
and  he,  at  least  true  to  design,  I  could  neither 
suffer  you  to  be  killed  nor  yet  him  to  be 
arrested.  From  such  a  tragic  passage,  death, 
and  death  alone  could  save  me  ;  and  it  is  no 
fault  of  mine  if  I  continue  to  exist. 

"But  you,  madam,"  continued  the  young 
man,  addressing  himself  more  directly  to 
myself,  ' '  were  doubtless  born  to  save  the 
prince  and  to  confound  our  purposes.  My  life 
you  have  prolonged  ;  and  by  turning  the  key 
on  my  companion,  you  have  made  me  the 
author  of  his  death.  He  heard  the  hour  strike  ; 
he  was  impotent  to  help  ;  and  thinking  himself 
forfeit  to  honor,  thinking  that  I  should  fall 
alone  upon  his  highness  and  perish  for  lack  of 
his  support,  he  has  turned  his  pistol  on  him- 
self." 


THE  SPIRITED  OLD  IAD  Y.  147 

"Yon  are  right, ''  said  Prince  Florizel :  "it 
was  in  no  nngenerons  spirit  that  yon  brought 
these  burdens  on  yourself  ;  and  when  I  see  yon 
so  nobly  to  blame,  so  tragically  punished,  I 
stand  like  one  reproved.  For  is  it  not  strange, 
madam,  that  you  and  I,  by  practicing  accepted 
and  inconsiderable  virtues,  and  commonplace 
but  still  unpardonable  faults,  should  stand 
here,  in  the  sight  of  God,  with  what  we  call 
clean  hands  and  quiet  consciences  ;  while  this 
poor  youth,  for  an  error  that  I  could  almost 
envy  him,  should  be  sunk  beyond  the  reach  of 
hope  \ 

"Sir,"  resumed  the  prince,  turning  to  the 
young  man,  ' '  I  can  not  help  you  ;  my  help 
would  but  unchain  the  thunderbolt  that  over- 
hangs you  ;  and  I  can  but  leave  you  free." 

"And,  sir,"  said  I,  "as  this  house  belongs 
to  me,  I  will  ask  you  to  have  the  kindness  to 
remove  the  body.  You  and  your  conspirators, 
it  appears  to  me,  can  hardly  in  civility  do 
less." 

"It  shall  be  done,"  said  the  young  man, 
with  a  dismal  accent. 

"And  you,  dear  madam,"  said  the  prince, 
"you,  to  whom  I  owe  my  life,  how  can  I  serve 
you?" 

"Your  highness,"  I  said,  "  to  be  very  plain, 
this  is  my  favorite  house,  being  not  only  a 
valuable    property,   but    endeared  to  me  by 


148  THE  SPIRITED  OLD  LADY. 

various  associations.  I  have  endless  troubles 
with  tenants  of  the  ordinary  class  ;  and  at  first 
applauded  my  good  fortune  when  I  found  one 
of  the  station  of  your  Master  of  the  Horse.  I 
now  begin  to  think  otherwise  :  dangers  set  a 
siege  about  great  personages  ;  and  I  do  not 
wish  my  tenement  to  share  these  risks.  Pro- 
cure me  the  resiliation  of  the  lease,  and  I  shall 
feel  myself  your  debtor." 

"I  must  tell  you,  madam,"  replied  his  high- 
ness, "that  Colonel  Geraldine  is  but  a  cloak 
for  myself ;  and  I  should  be  sorry  indeed  to 
think  myself  so  unacceptable  a  tenant." 

"Your  highness,"  said  I,  "I  have  conceived 
a  sincere  admiration  for  your  character ;  but 
on  the  subject  of  house  property,  I  can  not  allow 
the  interference  of  my  feelings.  I  will,  how- 
ever, to  prove  to  you  that  there  is  nothing  per- 
sonal in  my  request,  here  solemnly  engage  my 
word  that  I  will  never  put  another  tenant  in 
this  house." 

"Madam,"  said  Florizel,  "you  plead  your 
cause  too  charmingly  to  be  refused." 

Thereupon  we  all  three  withdrew.  The  young 
man,  stil  reeling  in  his  walk,  departed  by  him- 
self to  seek  the  assistance  of  his  fellow  conspir- 
ators ;  and  the  prince,  with  the  most  attentive 
gallantry,  lent  me  his  escort  to  the  door  of  my 
hotel.  The  next  day,  the  lease  was  canceled  ; 
nor  from  that  hour  to  this,  though  sometimes 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSIO.N.  1 4  9 

regretting  my  engagement,  have  I  suffered  a 
tenant  in  this  house. 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION  (continued). 

AS  soon  as  the  old  lady  had  finished  her 
relation,  Somerset  made  haste  to  offer 
her  his  compliments. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "your  story  is  not  only 
entertaining  but  instructive  ;  and  you  have  told 
it  with  infinite  vivacity.  I  was  much  affected 
toward  the  end,  as  I  held  at  one  time  very 
liberal  opinions,  and  should  certainly  have 
joined  a  secret  society  if  I  had  been  able  to 
find  one.  But  the  whole  tale  came  home  to  me  ; 
and  I  was  the  better  able  to  feel  for  you  in  your 
various  perplexities,  as  I  am  myself  of  some- 
what hasty  temper." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  Mrs.  Lux- 
more,  in  a  very  high  key.  "You  must  have 
strangely  misinterpreted  what  I  have  told 
you.  You  must  be  a  singularly  dense  young 
man." 

Somerset,  seeing  no  probable  termination  to 
the  lady's  anger,  hurried  to  recant. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Luxmore,"  said  he,  "you  cer- 
tainly misconstrue  my  remark.  As  a  man  of 
somewhat  fiery  humor,  my  conscience  repeat- 
edly pricked  me  when  I  heard  what  you  had 


1 5 o  THE  SUPERFL  UO US  MANSION. 

suffered  at  the  hands  of  persons  similarly  con- 
stituted." 

"Oh,  very  well  indeed,"  replied  the  old 
lady;  "and  a  very  proper  spirit.  I  regret 
that  I  have  met  with  it  so  rarely." 

"But  in  all  this,"  resumed  the  young  man, 
"  I  perceive  nothing  that  concerns  myself." 

"  I  am  about  to  come  to  that,"  she  returned. 
' '  And  you  have  already  before  yo  a,  in  the  pledge 
I  gave  Prince  Florizel,  one  of  the  elements  of  the 
affair.  I  am  a  woman  of  the  nomadic  sort,  and 
when  I  have  no  case  before  the  courts  I  make 
it  a  habit  to  visit  continental  spas  :  not  that  I 
have  ever  been  ill,  but  then  I  am  no  ]onger 
young,  and  I  am  always  happy  in  a  crowd. 
Well,  to  come  more  shortly  to  the  point,  I  am 
now  on  the  wing  for  Evian  ;  this  incubus  of  a 
house,  which  I  must  leave  behind  and  dare  not 
let,  hangs  heavily  upon  my  hands  ;  and  I  pro- 
pose to  rid  myself  of  that  concern,  and  do  you 
a  very  good  turn  into  the  bargain,  by  lending 
you  the  mansion,  with  all  its  fittings,  as  it 
stands.  The  idea  was  sudden  ;  it  appealed  to 
me  as  humorous  ;  and  I  am  sure  it  will  cause 
my  relatives,  if  they  should  ever  hear  of  it,  the 
keenest  possible  chagrin.  Here,  then,  is  the 
key,  and  when  you  return  at  two  to-morrow 
afternoon,  you  will  find  neither  me  nor  my 
cats  to  disturb  you  in  your  new  possession." 

So  saying,  the  old  lady  arose,  as  if  to  dismiss 


THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION.  1 5 1 

her  visitor,  but  Somerset,  looking  somewhat 
blankly  on  the  key,  began  to  protest. 

''Dear  Mrs.  Lnxmore,"  said  he,  "this  is  a 
most  unusual  proposal.  You  know  nothing  of 
me,  beyond  the  fact  that  I  displayed  both 
impudence  and  timidity.  I  may  be  the  worst 
kind  of  scoundrel ;  I  may  sell  your  furni- 
ture  " 

"  You  may  blow  up  the  house  with  gunpow- 
der for  what  I  care  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Luxmore. 
"  It  is  in  vain  to  reason.  Such  is  the  force  of 
my  character  that,  when  I  have  one  idea  clearly 
in  my  head,  I  do  not  care  two  straws  for  any 
side  consideration.  It  amuses  me  to  do  it,  and 
let  that  suffice.  On  your  side,  you  may  do 
what  you  please — let  apartments,  or  keep  a 
private  hotel ;  on  my  part,  I  promise  you  a  full 
month's  warning  before  I  return,  and  I  never 
fail  religiously  to  keep  my  promises." 

The  young  man  was  about  to  renew  his  pro- 
test, when  he  observed  a  sudden  and  signifi- 
cant change  in  the  old  lady's  countenance. 

"  If  I  thought  you  capable  of  disrespect !  " 
she  cried. 

"Madam,"  said  Somerset,  with  the  extreme 
fervor  of  asseveration,  ' '  madam,  I  accept.  I 
beg  you  to  understand  that  I  accept  with  joy 
and  gratitude." 

"Ah,  well,"  returned  Mrs.  Luxmore,  "if  I 
am  mistaken,  let  it  pass.     And  now,  since  all 


152  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

is  comfortably  settled,  I  wish  you  a  good- 
night." 

Thereupon,  as  if  to  leave  him  no  room  for 
repentance  she  hurried  Somerset  out  of  the 
front  door,  and  left  him  standing,  key  in  hand, 
upon  the  pavement. 

The  next  day,  about  the  hour  appointed,  the 
young  man  found  his  way  to  the  Square,  which 
I  will  here  call  Golden  Square,  though  that 
was  not  its  name.  What  to  expect,  he  knew 
not ;  for  a  man  may  live  in  dreams,  and  yet  be 
unprepared  for  their  realization.  It  was 
already  with  a  certain  pang  of  surprise  that  he 
beheld  the  mansion,  standing  in  the  eye  of  day, 
a  solid  among  solids.  The  key,  upon  trial, 
readily  opened  the  front  door  ;  he  entered  that 
great  house,  a  privileged  burglar  ;  and  escorted 
by  the  echoes  of  desertion,  rapidly  reviewed 
the  empty  chambers.  Cats,  servant,  old  lady, 
the  very  marks  of  habitation,  like  writing  on  a 
slate,  had  been  in  these  few  hours  obliterated. 
He  wandered  from  floor  to  floor,  and  found  the 
house  of  great  extent ;  the  kitchen  offices  com- 
modious and  well-appointed  ;  the  rooms  many 
and  large  ;  and  the  drawing-room,  in  particu- 
lar, an  apartment  of  princely  size  and  tasteful 
decoration.  Although  the  day  without  was 
warm,  genial  and  sunny,  with  a  ruffling  wind 
from  the  quarter  of  Torquay,  a  chill,  as  it  were, 
of  suspended  animation,  inhabited  the  house. 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  153 

Dust  and  shadows  met  the  eye  ;  and  but  for 
the  ominous  procession  of  the  echoes,  and  the 
rumor  of  the  wind  among  the  garden  trees,  the 
ear  of  the  young  man  was  stretched  in  vain. 
Behind  the  dining-room,  that  pleasant  li- 
brary, referred  to  by  the  old  lady  in  her  tale, 
looked  upon  the  flat  roofs  and  netted  cupolas 
of  the  kitchen  quarters,  and  on  a  second  visit 
this  room  appeared  to  greet  him  with  a  smiling 
countenance.  He  might  as  well,  he  thought, 
avoid  the  expense  of  lodging :  the  library, 
fitted  with  an  iron  bedstead  which  he  had  re- 
marked in  one  of  the  upper  chambers,  would 
serve  his  purpose  for  the  night ;  while  in  the 
dining-room,  which  was  large,  airy  and  light- 
some, looking  on  the  square  and  garden,  he 
might  very  agreeably  pass  his  days,  cook  his 
meals,  and  study  to  bring  himself  to  some  pro- 
ficiency in  that  art  of  painting  which  he  had 
recently  determined  to  adopt.  It  did  not  take 
him  long  to  make  the  change  ;  he  had  soon 
returned  to  the  mansion  with  his  modest  kit, 
and  the  cabman  who  brought  him  was  readily 
induced,  by  the  young  man's  pleasant  manner 
and  a  small  gratuity,  to  assist  him  in  the  in- 
stallation of  the  iron  bed.  By  six  in  the  even- 
ing, when  Somerset  went  forth  to  dine,  he  was 
able  to  look  back  upon  the  mansion  with  a 
sense  of  pride  and  property.  Four-square  it 
stood,  of  an  imposing  frontage,  and  ilanked  on 


1 5  4  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

either  side  by  family  hatchments.  His  eye, 
from  where  he  stood  whistling  in  the  key,  with 
his  back  to  the  garden  railings,  reposed  on 
every  feature  of  reality,  and  yet  his  own  pos- 
session seemed  as  flimsy  as  a  dream. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  the  genteel  in- 
habitants of  the  square  began  to  remark  the 
customs  of  their  neighbor.  The  sight  of  a  young 
gentleman  discussing  a  clay  pipe  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  in  the  drawing-room 
balcony  of  so  discreet  a  mansion,  and  perhaps 
still  more,  his  periodical  excursion  to  a  decent 
tavern  in  the  neighborhood,  and  his  unabashed 
return,  nursing  the  full  tankard  :  had  presently 
raised  to  a  high  pitch  the  interest  and  indigna- 
tion of  the  liveried  servants  of  the  square.  The 
disfavor  of  some  of  these  gentlemen  at  first  pro- 
ceeded to  the  length  of  insult ;  but  Somerset 
knew  how  to  be  affable  with  any  class  of  men  ; 
and  a  few  rude  words  merrily  accepted  and  a 
few  glasses  amicably  shared,  gained  for  him 
the  right  of  toleration. 

The  young  man  had  embraced  the  art  of 
Raphael,  partly  from  a  notion  of  its  ease, 
partly  from  an  inborn  distrust  of  offices.  He 
scorned  to  bear  the  yoke  of  any  regular  school- 
ing, and  proceeded  to  turn  one  half  of  the  din- 
ing-room into  a  studio  for  the  reproduction  of 
still  life.  There  he  amassed  a  variety  of  ob- 
jects, indiscriminately  chosen  from  the  kitchen, 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  1 5  5 

the  drawing-room,  and  the  back  garden,  and 
there  spent  his  days  in  smiling  assiduity. 
Meantime,  the  great  bulk  of  empty  building 
overhead  lay  like  a  load  upon  his  imagination. 
To  hold  so  great  a  stake  and  to  do  nothing, 
argued  some  defect  of  energy,  and  he  at  length 
determined  to  act  upon  the  hint  given  by  Mrs. 
Luxmore  herself,  and  to  stick  with  wafers  in 
the  window  of  the  dining-room  a  small  hand- 
bill announcing  furnished  lodgings.  At  half 
past  six  of  a  fine  July  morning  he  affixed  the 
bill  and  went  forth  into  the  square  to  study  the 
result.  It  seemed,  to  his  eye,  promising  and 
unpretentious,  and  he  returned  to  the  drawing 
room  balcony  to  consider  over  a  studious  pipe 
the  knotty  problem  of  how  much  he  was  to 
charge. 

Thereupon  he  somewhat  relaxed  in  his  de- 
votion to  the  art  of  painting.  Indeed,  from 
that  time  forth,  he  would  spend  the  best  part 
of  the  day  in  the  front  balcony,  like  the  atten- 
tive angler  poring  on  his  float;  and  the  better  to 
support  the  tedium,  he  would  frequently  con- 
sole himself  with  his  clay  pipe.  On  several 
occasions  passers-by  appeared  to  be  arrested  by 
the  ticket,  and  on  several  others  ladies  and 
gentlemen  drove  to  the  very  doorstep  by  the 
carriagef ul ;  but  it  appeared  there  was  some- 
thing repulsive  in  the  appearance  of  the  house, 
for  with  one  accord,  they  would  cast  but  one 


1 5  6  THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

look  upward  and  hastily  resume  their  onward 
progress  or  direct  the  driver  to  proceed.  Som- 
erset had  thus  the  mortification  of  actually 
meeting  the  eye  of  a  large  number  of  lodging- 
seekers  ;  and  though  he  hastened  to  withdraw 
his  pipe  and  to  compose  his  features  to  an  air 
of  invitation,  he  was  never  rewarded  by  so 
much  as  an  inquiry.  "Can there,"  he  thought, 
"be  any  thing  repellent  in  myself?"  But  a 
candid  examination  in  one  of  the  pier-glasses 
of  the  drawing-room  led  him  to  dismiss  the 
fear. 

Something,  however,  was  amiss.  His  vast 
and  accurate  calculations  on  the  fly-leaves  of 
books,  or  on  the  backs  of  playbills,  appeared  to 
have  been  an  idle  sacrifice  of  time.  By  these, 
he  had  variously  computed  the  weekly  takings 
of  the  house,  from  sums  as  modest  as  five-and- 
twenty  shillings,  up  to  the  more  majestic  figure 
of  a  hundred  pounds  ;  and  yet,  in  despite  of 
the  very  elements  of  arithmetic,  here  he  was 
making  literally  nothing. 

This  incongruity  impressed  him  deeply  and 
occupied  his  thoughtful  leisure  on  the  balcony; 
and  at  last  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  de- 
tected the  error  of  his  method.  "This,"  he 
reflected,  "is  an  age  of  generous  display:  the 
age  of  the  sandwich-man,  of  Griffiths,  of  Pears' 
legendary  soap,  and  of  Eno's  fruit  salt,  which, 
by  sheer  brass  and  notoriety,  and  the  most  dis- 


THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MA NSION.  1 5  7 

g  us  ting  pictures  I  ever  remember  to  have  seen, 
lias  overlaid  that  comforter  of  my  childhood, 
Lamplough' s  pyretic  saline.  Lamplough  was 
genteel,  Eno  was  omnipresent ;  Lamplough  was 
trite,  Eno  original  and  abominably  vulgar  ;  and 
here  have  I,  a  man  of  some  pretensions  to 
knowledge  of  the  world,  contented  myself  with 
half  a  sheet  of  note-paper,  a  few  cold  words 
which  do  not  directly  address  the  imagination, 
and  the  adornment  (if  adornment  it  may  be 
called)  of  four  red  wafers  !  Am  I,  then,  to  sink 
with  Lamplough,  or  to  soar  with  Eno  ?  Am  I 
to  adopt  that  modesty  which  is  doubtless  be- 
coming in  a  duke  \  or  to  take  hold  of  the  red 
facts  of  life  with  the  emphasis  of  the  tradesman 
and  the  poet  \ ' ' 

Pursuant  upon  these  meditations,   he   pro- 
cured several  sheets  of  the  very  largest  size  of 
drawing-paper ;   and  laying   forth  his  pair 
proceeded  to  compose  an  ensign  that  * 
attract  the  eye  and  at  the  same  tim 
own  phrase,   directly  address  the 
of  the  passenger.     Something 
way  of  color,  a  good,  savor- 
and  a  realistic  design  ■ 
lodger  might  expect  t 
that  palace  of  del" 
must  be  the  eleme 
was  possible,  upc 
sober  pleasur- 


1 5  8  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

lire,  blonde-headed  urchins  and  the  his  singurn; 
but  on  the  other,  it  was  possible  (and  he  almost 
felt  as  if  it  were  more  suited  to  his  muse)  to 
set  forth  the  charms  of  an  existence  somewhat 
wider  in  its  range,  or,  boldly  say,  the  paradise 
of  the  Mohammedan.  So  long  did  the  artist 
waver  between  these  two  views,  that,  before 
he  arrived  at  a  conclusion,  he  had  finally  con- 
ceived and  completed  both  designs.  With  the 
proverbially  tender  heart  of  the  parent,  he 
found  himself  unable  to  sacrifice  either  of  these 
offspring  of  his  art ;  and  decided  to  expose 
them  on  alternate  days.  "In  this  way,"  he 
thought,  "  I  shall  address  myself  indifferently 
to  all  classes  of  the  world." 

The  tossing  of  a  penny  decided  the  only  re- 
maining point ;  and  the  more  imaginative  can- 
received    the    suffrages    of    fortune    and 
1  first  in  the  window  of  the  mansion. 
Mgh  fancy,  the  legend  eloquently 
of  color  taking  and  bold  ;  and 
+ion  of  the  artist's  drawing, 
Ven  for  a  model  of  its 
v  when  viewed  from 
°.  garden  railings, 
ce,  it  caused  a 
"s  heart.     "  I 
''aninvalu- 
ubject  of 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  1 5  9 

The  fate  of  neither  of  these  works  was  equal 
to  its  merit.  A  crowd  would  certainly,  from 
time  to  time,  collect  before  the  area-railings  ; 
but  they  came  to  jeer  and  not  to  speculate ; 
and  those  who  pushed  their  inquiries  further, 
were  too  plainly  animated  by  the  spirit  of  de- 
rision. The  racier  of  the  two  cartoons  dis- 
played, indeed,  no  symptom  of  attractive 
merit ;  and  though  it  had  a  certain  share  of 
that  success  called  scandalous,  failed  utterly  of 
its  effect.  On  the  day,  however,  of  the  second 
appearance  of  the  companion  work,  a  real 
inquirer  did  actually  jjresent  himself  before 
the  eyes  of  Somerset. 

This  was  a  gentlemanly  man,  with  some 
marks  of  recent  merriment,  and  his  voice  under 
inadequate  control. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  he,  "but  what  is 
the  meaning  of  your  extraordinary  bill  ? ' ' 

"I  beg  yours,"  returned  Somerset  hotly. 
"Its  meaning  is  sufficiently  explicit."  And 
being  now,  from  dire  experience,  fearful  of 
ridicule,  he  was  preparing  to  close  the  door, 
when  the  gentleman  thrust  his  cane  into  the 
aperture. 

"  Not  so  fast,  I  beg  of  you,"  said  he.  "  If 
you  really  let  apartments,  here  is  a  possible 
tenant  at  your  door ;  and  nothing  would  give 
me  greater  pleasure  than  to  see  the  accommo- 
dation and  to  learn  your  terms." 


1 60  THE  S UPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

His  heart  joyous] y  beating,  Somerset  ad- 
mitted the  visitor,  showed  him  over  the  various 
apartments,  and  with  some  return  of  his  per- 
suasive eloquence,  expounded  their  attractions. 
The  gentleman  was  particularly  pleased  by  the 
elegant  proportions  of  the  drawing-room. 

"This,"  he  said,  "  would  suit  me  very  well. 
What,  may  I  ask,  would  be  your  terms  a  week 
for  this  floor  and  the  one  above  it  ?" 

"  I  was  thinking,"  returned  Somerset,  "of  a 
hundred  pounds." 

"  Surely  not,''  exclaimed  the  gentleman. 

"Well,  then,"  returned  Somerset,  "fifty." 

The  gentleman  regarded  him  with  an  air  of 
some  amazement.  "  You  seem  to  be  strangely 
elastic  in  your  demands,"  said  he.  "What  if 
I  were  to  proceed  on  your  own  principle  of  di- 
vision, and  offer  you  twenty-five  ? ' ' 

"Done!"  cried  Somerset;  and  then,  over- 
come by  a  sudden  embarrassment,  "  You  see," 
he  added,  apologetically,  "it  is  all  found 
money  for  me." 

"  Really?"  said  the  stranger,  looking  at  him 
all  the  while  with  growing  wonder.  ' '  Without 
extras,  then? " 

"  I — I  suppose  so,"  stammered  the  keeper  of 
the  lodging-house. 

"  Service  included  ? "  pursued  the  gentleman. 

"  Service  ?  "  cried  Somerset.  "Do  you  mean 
that  you  expect  me  to  empty  your  slops  ? " 


THE  S UPERFL  UO  US  MANSION.  1 6 1 

The  gentleman  regarded  him  with  a  very 
friendly  interest.  "My  dear  fellow,"  said  he, 
1 '  if  you  take  my  advice,  you  will  give  up  this' 
business."  And  thereupon  he  resumed  his  hat 
and  took  himself  away. 

This  smarting  disappointment  produced  a 
strong  effect  on  the  artist  of  the  cartoons  ;  and 
he  began  with  shame  to  eat  up  his  rosier  illu- 
sions. First  one  and  then  the  other  of  his 
great  works  was  condemned,  withdrawn  from 
exhibition,  and  relegated,  as  a  mere  wall- 
picture,  to  the  decoration  of  the  dining-room. 
Their  place  was  taken  by  a  replica  of  the 
original  wafered  announcement,  to  which,  in 
particularly  large  letters,  he  had  added  the 
pithy  rubric:  "  JSTo  service."  Meanwhile  he 
had  fallen  into  something  as  nearly  bordering 
on  low  spirits  as  was  consistent  with  his  dispo- 
sition ;  depressed,  at  once  by  the  failure  of  his 
scheme,  the  laughable  turn  of  his  late  inter- 
view, and  the  judicial  blindness  of  the  public 
to  the  merit  of  the  twin  cartoons. 

Perhaps  a  week  had  passed  before  he  was 
again  startled  by  the  note  of  the  knocker.  A 
gentleman  of  a  somewhat  foreign  and  somewhat 
military  air,  yet  closely  shaven  and  wearing  a 
soft  hat,  desired  in  the  politest  terms  to  visit 
the  apartments.  He  had  (he  explained)  a 
friend,  a  gentleman  in  tender  health,  desirous 
of  a  sedate  and  solitary  life,  apart  from  inter- 


1 6  2  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION 

ruption  and  the  noises  of  the  common  lodg- 
ing-house. The  unusual  clause,"  he  con- 
tinued, "in  your  announcement,  particularly 
struck  me.  "This,"  I  said,  "  is  the  place  for 
Mr.  Jones.  You  are  yourself,  sir,  a  professional 
gentleman?"  concluded  the  visitor,  looking 
keenly  in  Somerset's  face. 

"I  am  an  artist,"  replied  the  young  man 
lightly. 

"And  these,"  observed  the  other,  taking  a 
side  glance  through  the  open  door  of  the  din- 
ing-room, which  they  were  then  passing, 
"these  are  some  of  your  works.  Very  remark- 
able." And  he  again  and  still  more  sharply 
peered  into  the  countenance  of  the  young 
man. 

Somerset,  unable  to  suppress  a  blush,  made 
the  more  haste  to  lead  his  visitor  up  stairs  and 
to  display  the  apartments. 

"Excellent,"  observed  the  stranger,  as  he 
looked  from  one  of  the  back  windows.  "Is 
that  a  mews  behind,  sir  ?  Yery  good.  Well, 
sir,  see  here.  My  friend  will  take  your  draw- 
ing-room floor ;  he  will  sleep  in  the  back 
drawing-room  ;  his  nurse,  an  excellent  Irish 
widow,  will  attend  on  all  his  wants  and  occupy 
a  garret ;  he  will  pay  you  the  round  sum  of 
ten  dollars  a  week ;  and  you,  on  your  part, 
will  engage  to  receive  no  other  lodger  ?  I  think 
that  fair." 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  1 6  3 

Somerset  had  scarcely  words  in  which  to 
clothe  his  gratitude  and  joy. 

' '  Agreed,"  said  the  other ;  ' '  and  to  spare  you 
trouble,  my  friend  will  bring  some  men  with 
him  to  make  the  changes.  You  will  find  him 
a  retiring  inmate,  sir ;  receives  but  few,  and 
rarely  leaves  the  house  except  at  night." 

"  Since  I  have  been  in  this  house,"  returned 
Somerset,  "I  have  myself,  unless  it  were  to 
fetch  beer,  rarely  gone  abroad  except  in  the 
evening.  But  a  man,"  he  added,  "must  have 
some  amusement." 

An  hour  was  then  agreed  on  ;  the  gentleman 
departed  ;  and  Somerset  sat  down  to  compute 
in  English  money  the  value  of  the  figure 
named.  The  result  of  this  investigation  filled 
him  with  amazement  and  disgust ;  but  it  was 
now  too  late  ;  nothing  remained  but  to  endure  ; 
and  he  awaited  the  arrival  of  his  tenant,  still 
trying,  by  various  arithmetical  expedients,  to 
obtain  a  more  favorable  quotation  for  the  dol- 
lar. With  the  approach  of  dusk,  however,  his 
impatience  drove  him  once  more  to  the  front 
balcony.  The  night  fell,  mild  and  airless  ;  the 
lamps  shone  around  the  central  darkness  of 
the  garden  ;  and  through  the  tall  grove  of  trees 
that  intervened,  many  warmly  illuminated 
windows  on  the  further  side  of  the  square  told 
their  tale  of  white  napery,  choice  wine,  and 
genial    hospitality.     The    stars  were  already 


1 64  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

thickening  overhead,  when  the  yonng  man's 
eyes  alighted  on  a  procession  of  three  four- 
wheelers,  coasting  round  the  garden  railing 
and  bound  for  the  Superfluous  Mansion.  They 
were  laden  with  formidable  boxes  ;  moving  in 
a  military  order,  one  following  another  ;  and, 
by  the  extreme  slowness  of  their  advance, 
inspired  Somerset  with  the  most  serious  ideas 
of  his  tenant' s  malady. 

By  the  time  he  had  the  door  open,  the  cabs 
had  drawn  up  beside  the  pavement ;  and  from 
the  two  first,  there  had  alighted  the  military 
gentleman  of  the  morning  and  two  very  stal- 
wart porters.  These  proceeded  instantly  to 
take  possession  of  the  house  ;  with  their  own 
hands,  and  firmly  rejecting  Somerset's  assist- 
ance, they  carried  in  the  various  crates  and 
boxes ;  with  their  own  hands  dismounted  and 
transferred  to  the  back  drawing-room  the  bed 
in  which  the  tenant  was  to  sleep  ;  and  it  was 
not  until  the  bustle  of  arrival  had  subsided, 
and  the  arrangements  were  complete,  that  there 
descended,  from  the  third  of  the  three  vehicles, 
a  gentleman  of  great  stature  and  broad  shoul- 
ders, leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  a  woman  in  a 
widow's  dress,  and  himself  covered  by  a  long 
cloak  and  muffled  in  a  colored  comforter. 

Somerset  had  but  a  glimpse  of  him  in  pass- 
ing ;  he  was  soon  shut  into  the  back  drawing- 
room  ;  the  other  men  departed ;  silenoe  rede- 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  165 

scended  on  the  house  ;  and  had  not  the  nurse 
appeared  a  little  before  half-past  ten,  and, 
with  a  strong  brogue,  asked  if  there  were  a 
decent  public-house  in  the  neighborhood,  Som- 
erset might  have  still  supposed  himself  to  be 
alone  in  the  Superfluous  Mansion. 

Day  followed  day  :  and  still  the  young  man 
had  never  come  by  speech  or  sight  of  his  mys- 
terious lodger.  The  doors  of  the  drawing-room 
flat  were  never  open  ;  and  although  Somerset 
could  hear  him  moving  to  and  fro,  the  tall  man 
never  quitted  the  privacy  of  his  apartments. 
Visitors,  indeed,  arrived  ;  sometimes  in  the 
dusk,  sometimes  at  intempestuous  hours  of 
night  or  morning  ;  men,  for  the  most  part ;  some 
meanly  attired,  some  decently ;  some  loud, 
some  cringing  ;  and  yet  all,  in  the  eyes  of 
Somerset,  displeasing.  A  certain,  air  of  fear 
and  secrecy  was  common  to  them  all ;  they  were 
all  voluble,  he  thought,  and  ill  at  ease  ;  even 
the  military  gentleman  proved,  on  a  closer  in- 
spection, to  be  no  gentleman  at  all ;  and  as  for 
the  doctor  who  attended  the  sick  man,  his  man- 
ners were  not  suggestive  of  a  university  career. 
The  nurse,  again,  was  scarcely  a  desirable 
house-fellow.  Since  her  arrival,  the  fall  of 
whisky  in  the  young  man' s  private  bottle  was 
much  accelerated  ;  and  though  never  communi- 
cative, she  was  at  times  unpleasantly  familiar. 
When  asked  about  the  patient's  health,  she 


1 6 6  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

would  dolorously  shake  her  head,  and  declare 
that  the  poor  gentleman  was  in  a  pitiful  con- 
dition. 

Yet  somehow  Somerset  had  early  begun  to 
entertain  the  notion  that  his  complaint  was 
other  than  bodily.  The  ill-looking  birds  that 
gathered  to  the  house,  the  strange  noises  that 
sounded  from  the  drawing-room  in  the  dead 
hours  of  night,  the  careless  attendance  and 
intemperate  habits  of  the  nurse,  the  entire 
absence  of  correspondence,  the  entire  seclusion 
of  Mr.  Jones  himself,  whose  face,  up  to  that 
hour,  he  could  not  have  sworn  to  in  a  court  of 
justice — all  weighed  unpleasantly  upon  the 
young  man' s  mind.  A  sense  of  something  evil, 
irregular  and  underhand,  haunted  and  de- 
pressed him  ;  and  this  uneasy  sentiment  was 
the  more  firmly  rooted  in  his  mind,  when,  in 
the  fullness  of  time,  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
observing  the  features  of  his  tenant.  It  fell  in 
this  way.  The  young  landlord  was  awakened 
about  four  in  the  morning  by  a  noise  in  the 
hall.  Leaping  to  his  feet,  and  opening  the  door 
of  the  library,  he  saw  the  tall  man,  candle  in 
hand,  in  earnest  conversation  with  the  gentle- 
man who  had  taken  the  rooms.  The  faces  of 
both  were  strongly  illuminated  ;  and  in  that  of 
his  tenant  Somerset  could  perceive  none  of  the 
marks  of  disease,  but  every  sign  of  health, 
energy  and    resolution.     While  he   was   still 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  1 6  7 

looking,  the  visitor  took  his  departure  ;  and  the 
invalid,  having  carefully  fastened  the  front 
door,  sprang  up  stairs  without  a  trace  of  lassi- 
tude. 

That  night  upon  his  pillow,  Somerset  began 
to  kindle  once  more  into  the  hot  fit  of  the  de- 
tective fever;  and  the  next  morning  resumed  the 
practice  of  his  art  with  careless  hand  and  an 
abstracted  mind.  The  day  was  destined  to  be 
fertile  in  surprises  ;  nor  had  he  long  been  seated 
at  the  easel  ere  the  first  of  these  occurred.  A 
cab  laden  with  baggage  drew  up  before  the 
door  ;  and  Mrs.  Luxmore  in  person  rapidly 
mounted  the  steps  and  began  to  pound  upon 
the  knocker.  Somerset  hastened  to  attend  the 
summons. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  she  said,  with  the  utmost 
gayety,  "  here  I  come  dropping  from  the  moon. 
I  am  delighted  to  find  you  faithful ;  and  I  have 
no  doubt  you  will  be  equally  pleased  to  be  re- 
stored to  liberty. ' ' 

Somerset  could  find  no  words,  whether  of 
protest  or  welcome  ;  and  the  spirited  old  lady 
pushed  briskly  by  him  and  paused  on  the 
threshold  of  the  dining-room.  The  sight  that 
met  her  eyes  was  one  well  calculated  to  inspire 
astonishment.  The  mantel-piece  was  arrayed 
with  sauce-pans  and  empty  bottles  ;  on  the  fire 
some  chops  were  frying  ;  the  floor  was  littered 
from  end  to  end  with  books,  clothes,  walking- 


1 68  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

canes  and  the  materials  of  the  painter's  craft ; 
but  what  far  outstripped  the  other  wonders  of 
the  place  was  the  corner  which  had  been  ar- 
ranged for  the  study  of  still-life.  This  formed 
a  sort  of  rockery  ;  conspicuous  upon  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  principles  of  the  art  of  composi- 
tion, a  cabbage  was  relieved  against  a  copper 
kettle,  and  both  contrasted  with  the  mail  of  a 
boiled  lobster. 

"  My  gracious  goodness  !  "  cried  the  lady  of 
the  house  ;  and  then,  turning  in  wrath  on  the 
young  man,  "  From  what  rank  in  life  are  you 
sprung  \ "  she  demanded.  "You  have  the  ex- 
terior of  a  gentleman  ;  but  from  the  astonishing 
evidences  before  ma,  I  should  say  you  can  only 
be  a  green-grocer's  man.  Pray,  gather  up  your 
vegetables,  and  let  me  see  no  more  of  you." 

"Madam,"  babbled  Somerset,  "you  prom- 
ised me  a  month's  warning." 

"That  was  under  a  misapprehension,"  re- 
turned the  old  lady,  "  I  now  give  you  warning 
to  leave  at  once." 

"  Madam,"  said  the  young  man,  "I  wish  I 
could  ;  and  indeed,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it 
might  be  done.     But  then,  my  lodger  !  " 

"  Your  lodger  %  "  echoed  Mrs.  Luxmore. 

"My  lodger;  why  should  I  deny  it?"  re- 
turned Somerset.  "He  is  only  here  by  the 
week." 

The  old  lady  sat  d^wn  upon  a  chair.     "You 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  N SI ON.  1 6  9 

have  a  lodger  \ — you  \ ' '  she  cried.  ' '  And 
pray,  how  did  you  get  him  ?" 

' '  By  advertisement, ' '  replied  the  young  man. 
'  'Oh  madam,  I  have  not  lived  unobservantly. 
I  adopted" — his  eyes  involuntarily  shifted  to 
the  cartoons — "  I  adopted  every  method." 

Her  eyes  had  followed  his  ;  for  the  first  time 
in  Somerset's  experience,  she  produced  a 
double  eyeglass  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  full  merit 
of  the  works  flashed  upon  her,  she  gave  way  to 
peal  after  peal  of  her  trilling  and  soprano 
laughter. 

uOh,  I  think  you  are  perfectly  delicious  !  " 
she  cried.  "I  do  hope  you  had  them  in  the 
window.  M'Pherson,"  she  continued,  crying 
to  her  maid,  who  had  been  all  this  time  grimly 
waiting  in  the  hall,  "  I  lunch  with  Mr.  Somer- 
set. Take  the  cellar  key  and  bring  some  wine." 

In  this  gay  humor,  she  continued  throughout 
the  luncheon ;  presented  Somerset  with  a 
couple  of  dozen  of  wine,  which  she  made 
M'Pherson  bring  up  from  the  cellar — "as  a 
present,  my  dear,"  she  said,  with  another  burst 
of  tearful  merriment,  ' '  for  your  charming  pic- 
tures, which  you  must  be  sure  to  leave  me  when 
you  go  ;"  and  finally,  protesting  that  she  dared 
not  spoil  the  absurdest  houseful  of  madmen  in 
the  whole  of  London,  departed  (as  she  vaguely 
phrased  it)  for  the  continent  of  Europe. 

She  was  no  sooner  gone,  than  Somerset  en- 


1 7  O  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSIOiV. 

countered  in  the  corridor  the  Irish  nurse ;  sober, 
to  all  appearance,  and  yet  a  prey  to  singularly 
strong  emotion.  It  avus  made  to  appear,  from 
her  account,  that  Mr.  Jones  had  already  suffered 
acutely  in  his  health  from  Mrs.  Luxmore's 
visit,  and  that  nothing  short  of  a  full  explana- 
tion could  allay  the  invalid's  uneasiness.  Som- 
erset, somewhat  staring,  told  what  he  thought 
fit  of  the  affair. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  cried  the  woman.  "  As  God 
sees  you,  is  that  all  %  " 

"My  good  woman,"  said  the  young  man,  "I 
have  no  idea  what  you  can  be  driving  at.  Sup- 
pose the  lady  were  my  friend's  wife,  suppose 
she  were  my  fairy  godmother,  suppose  she  were 
the  Queen  of  Portugal ;  and  how  should  that 
affect  yourself  or  Mr.  Jones  ?" 

"  Blessed  Mary  !  "  cried  the  nurse,  "it's  he 
that  will  be  glad  to  hear  it ! " 

And  immediately  she  fled  up  stairs. 

Somerset,  on  his  part,  returned  to  the  dining- 
room,  and  with  a  very  thoughtful  brow  and 
ruminating  many  theories,  disposed  of  the 
remainder  of  the  bottle.  It  was  port ;  and  port 
is  a  wine,  sole  among  its  equals  and  superiors, 
that  can  in  some  degree  support  the  competi- 
ion  of  tobacco.  Sipping,  smoking,  and  theor- 
izing, Somerset  moved  on  from  suspicion  to 
suspicion,  from  resolve  to  resolve,  still  growing 
braver  and  rosier  as  the  bottle  ebbed.    He  was 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  17 1 

a  skeptic,  none  prouder  of  the  name  ;  he  had 
no  horror  at  command,  whether  for  crimes  or 
vices,  but  beheld  and  embraced  the  world,  with 
an  immoral  approbation,  the  frequent  conse- 
quence of  youth  and  health.  At  the  same  time 
he  felt  convinced  that  he  dwelt  under  the  same 
roof  with  secret  malefactors ;  and  the  unregen- 
erate  instinct  of  the  chase  impelled  him  to 
severity.  The  bottle  had  run  low  ;  the  summer 
sun  had  finally  withdrawn ;  and  at  the  same 
moment,  night  and  the  pangs  of  hunger  recalled 
him  from  his  dreams. 

He  went  forth,  and  dined  in  the  Criterion : 
a  dinner  in  consonance,  not  so  much  with  his 
purse,  as  with  the  admirable  wine  he  had  dis- 
cussed. What  with  one  thing  and  another,  it  was 
long  past  midnight  when  he  returned  home.  A 
cab  was  at  the  door  ;  and  entering  the  hall, 
Somerset  found  himself  face  to  face  with  one  of 
the  most  regular  of  the  few  who  visited  Mr. 
Jones  :  a  man  of  powerful  figure,  strong  linea- 
ments, and  a  chin-beard  in  the  American  fash- 
ion. This  person  was  carrying  on  one  shoulder 
a  black  portmanteau,  seemingly  of  considerable 
weight.  That  he  should  find  a  visitor  remov- 
ing baggage  in  the  dead  of  night,  recalled  some 
odd  stories  to  the  young  man's  memory  ;  he 
had  heard  of  lodgers  who  thus  gradually  drained 
away,  not  only  their  own  effects,  but  the  very 
furniture  and  fittings  of  the  house  that  sheltered 


1 7  2  THE  S  V PER EL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

tliem  ;  and  now,  in  a  mood  between  pleasantry 
and  suspicion,  and  aping  the  manner  of  a 
drunkard,  lie  roughly  bumped  against  the  man 
with  the  chin-beard  and  knocked  the  portman- 
teau from  his  shoulder  to  the  floor.  With  a 
face  struck  suddenly  as  white  as  paper,  the 
man  with  the  chin-beard  called  lamentably  on 
the  name  of  his  maker,  and  fell  in  a  mere  heap 
on  the  mat  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  At  the 
same  time,  though  only  for  a  single  instant,  the 
heads  of  the  sick  lodger  and  the  Irish  nurse 
popped  out  like  rabbits  over  the  banisters  of  the 
first  floor  ;  and  on  both  the  same  scare  and  pal- 
lor were  apparent. 

The  sight  of  this  incredible  emotion  turned 
Somerset  to  stone,  and  he  continued  speechless, 
while  the  man  gathered  himself  together,  and 
with  the  help  of  the  handrail  and  audibly 
thanking  God,  scrambled  once  more  upon  his 
feet. 

"  What  in  Heaven's  name  ails  you  1 "  gasped 
the  young  man  as  soon  as  he  could  find  words 
and  utterance. 

"  Have  you  a  drop  of  brandy  ?"  returned  the 
other.     "I  am  sick." 

Somerset  administered  two  drams,  one  after 
the  other,  to  the  man  with  the  chin-beard  ;  who 
then, somewhat  restored,  began  to  confound  him- 
self in  apologies  for  what  he  called  his  miserable 
nervousness,  the  result,  he  said,  of  a  long  course 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  1 7  3 

of  dumb  ague  ;  and  having  taken  leave  with  a 
hand  that  still  sweated  and  trembled,  he  gin- 
gerly resumed  his  burden  and  departed. 

Somerset  retired  to  bed  but  not  to  sleep. 
What,  he  asked  himself,  had  been  the  contents 
of  the  black  portmanteau  %  Stolen  goods  \  the 
carcase  of  one  murdered  \  or — and  at  the  thought 
he  sat  upright  in  bed — an  infernal  machine  \ 
He  took  a  solemn  vow  that  he  would  set  these 
doubts  at  rest ;  and  with  the  next  morning,  in- 
stalled himself  beside  the  dining-room  window, 
vigilant  with  eye  and  ear,  to  await  and  profit 
by  the  earliest  opportunity. 

The  hours  went  heavily  by.  Within  the 
house  there  was  no  circumstance  of  novelty ; 
unless  it  might  be  that  the  nurse  more  fre- 
quently made  little  journeys  round  the  corner 
of  the  square,  and  before  afternoon  was  some- 
what loose  of  speech  and  gait.  A  little  after  six, 
however,  there  came  round  the  corner  of  the 
gardens  a  very  handsome  and  elegantly 
dressed  young  woman,  who  paused  a  little  way 
off,  and  for  some  time,  and  with  frequent  sighs, 
contemplated  the  front  of  the  Superfluous  Man- 
sion. It  was  not  the  first  time  that  she  had 
thus  stood  afar  and  looked  upon  it,  like  our 
common  parents  at  the  gates  of  Eden  ;  and  the 
young  man  had  already  had  occasion  to  remark 
the  lively  slimness  of  her  carriage,  and  had 
already  been  the  butt  of  a  chance  arrow  from 


174  1  HE  S  C  TJ.  AV-  LUOl  rS  MA  A  rSION. 

her  eye.  He  hailed  lier  coming,  then,  with 
pleasant  feelings,  and  moved  a  little  nearer  to 
the  window  to  enjoy  the  sight.  What  was  his 
surprise,  however,  when,  as  if  with  a  sensible 
effort,  she  drew  near,  mounted  the  steps  and 
tapped  discreetly  at  the  door  !  He  made  haste 
to  get  before  the  Irish  nurse,  who  was  not  im- 
probably asleep,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to 
receive  this  gracious  visitor  in  person. 

She  inquired  for  Mr.  Jones  ;  and  then,  with- 
out transition,  asked  the  young  man  if  he  were 
the  person  of  the  house  (and  at  the  words,  he 
thought  he  could  perceive  her  to  be  smiling), 
"because,"  she  added,  "if  you  are,  I  should 
like  to  see  some  of  the  other  rooms." 

Somerset  told  her  he  was  under  an  engage- 
ment to  receive  no  lodgers  ;  but  she  assured  him 
that  would  be  no  matter,  as  these  were  friends 
of  Mr.  Jones's.  "And,"  she  continued,  mov- 
ing suddenly  to  the  dining-room  door,  "let  us 
begin  here."  Somerset  was  too  late  to  prevent 
her  entering,  and  perhaps  he  lacked  the  cour- 
age to  essay.  "Ah  ! "  she  cried,  "  how  changed 
it  is!" 

' '  Madam, ' '  cried  the  young  man,  ' '  since  your 
entrance,  it  is  I  who  have  the  right  to  say  so." 

She  received  this  inane  compliment  with  a 
demure  and  conscious  droop  of  the  eyelids,  and 
gracefully  steering  her  dress  among  the  mingled 
litter,   now  with  a  smile,   now  with  a  sigh, 


THE  SUPER EL  UO  US  MA  NSIOJV.  1 7 5 

reviewed  the  wonders  of  the  two  apartments. 
She  gazed  upon  'the  cartoons  with  sparkling 
eyes,  and  a  heightened  color,  and  in  a  some- 
what breathless  voice  expressed  a  high  opinion 
of  their  merits.  She  praised  the  effective  dis- 
position of  the  rockery,  and  in  the  bedroom,  of 
which  Somerset  had  vainly  endeavored  to  de- 
fend the  entry,  she  fairly  broke  forth  in  ad- 
miration. "How  simple  and  manly!"  she 
cried:  "none  of  that  effeminacy  of  neatness, 
which  is  so  detestable  in  a  man  !  "  ■  Hard  upon 
this,  telling  him,  before  he  had  time  to  reply, 
that  she  very  well  knew  her  way,  and  would 
trouble  him  no  further,  she  took  her  leave  with 
an  engaging  smile,  and  ascended  the  staircase 
alone. 

For  more  than  an  hour,  the  young  lady  re- 
mained closeted  with  Mr.  Jones  ;  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time,  the  night  being  now  come 
completely,  they  left  the  house  in  company. 
This  was  the  first  time  since  the  arrival  of  his 
lodger,  that  Somerset  had  found  himself  alone 
with  the  Irish  widow  ;  and  without  the  loss  of 
any  more  time  than  was  required  by  decency, 
he  stepped  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  hailed 
her  by  her  name.  She  came  instantly,  wreathed 
in  weak  smiles  and  with  a  nodding  head  ;  and 
when  the  young  man  politely  offered  to  intro- 
duce her  to  the  treasures  of  his  art,  she  swore 
that  nothing  could  afford  her  greater  pleasure, 


176  THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

for,  though  she  had  never  crossed  the  threshold, 
she  had  frequently  observed  his  beautiful  pic- 
tures through  the  door.  On  entering  the  din- 
ing-room, the  sight  of  a  bottle  and  two  glasses 
prepared  her  to  be  a  gentle  critic  ;  and  as  soon 
as  the  pictures  had  been  viewed  and  praised, 
she  was  easily  persuaded  to  join  the  painter  in 
a  single  glass.  "Here,"  she  said,  "are  my 
respects  ;  and  a  pleasure  it  is,  in  this  horrible 
house,  to  see  a  gentleman  like  yourself,  so 
affable  and  free,  and  a  very  nice  painter,  I  am 
sure."  One  glass  so  agreeably  prefaced,  was 
sure  to  lead  to  the  acceptance  of  a  second  ;  at 
the  third,  Somerset  was  free  to  cease  from  the 
affectation  of  keeping  her  company  ;  and  as  for 
the  fourth,  she  asked  it  of  her  own  accord. 
"  For  indeed,"  said  she,  "  what  with  all  these 
clocks  and  chemicals,  without  a  drop  of  the 
creature  life  would  be  impossible  entirely.  And 
you  seen  yourself  that  even  M'  Guire  was  glad 
to  beg  for  it.  And  even  himself,  when  he  is 
downhearted  with  all  these  cruel  disappoint- 
ments, though  as  temperate  a  man  as  any  child, 
will  be  sometimes  crying  for  a  glass  of  it.  And 
I'll  thank  you  for  a  thimbleful  to  settle  what  I 
got."  Soon  after,  she  began  with  tears  to  nar- 
rate the  deathbed  dispositions  and  lament  the 
"trilling  assets  of  her  husband.  Then  she  de- 
clared she  heard  "the  master"  calling  her,  rose 
to  her  feet,  made  but  one  lurch  of  it  into  the 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  1 7  7 

still-life  rockery,  and  with  her  head  upon  the 
lobster,  fell  into  stertorous  slumbers. 

Somerset  mounted  at  once  to  the  first  story, 
and  opened  the  door  of  the  drawing-room, 
which  was  brilliantly  lighted  by  several  lamps. 
It  was  a  great  apartment ;  looking  on  the  square 
with  three  tall  windows,  and  joined  by  a  pair 
of  ample  folding-doors  to  the  next  room  ;  ele- 
gant in  proportion,  papered  in  sea-green,  fur- 
nished in  velvet  of  a  delicate  blue,  and  adorned 
with  a  majestic  mantel-piece  of  variously  tinted 
marbles.  Such  was  the  room  that  Somerset 
remembered  ;  that  which  he  now  beheld  was 
changed  in  almost  every  feature  :  the  furniture 
covered  with  a  figured  chintz  ;  the  walls  hung 
with  a  rhubarb  colored  paper,  and  diversified 
by  the  curtained  recesses  for  no  less  than  seven 
windows.  It  seemed  to  himself  that  he  must 
have  entered,  without  observing  the  transition, 
into  the  adjoining  house.  Presently  from  these 
more  specious  changes,  his  eye  condescended 
to  the  many  curious  objects  with  which  the 
floor  was  littered.  Here  were  the  locks  of  dis- 
mounted pistols ;  clocks  and  clockwork  in 
every  stag3  of  demolition,  some  still  busily 
ticking,  some  reduced  to  their  dainty  ele- 
ments ;  a  great  company  of  carboys,  jars  and 
bottles  ;  a  carpenter's  bench  and  a  laboratory- 
table. 

The  back  drawing-room,  to  which  Somerset 


I  7 8  THE  SUPERFL  UO US  MANSION. 

proceeded,  had  likewise  undergone  a  change. 
It  was  transformed  to  the  exact  appearance  of 
a  common  lodging-house  bedroom  ;  a  bed  with 
green  curtains  occupied  one  corner ;  and  the 
window  was  blocked  by  the  regulation  table 
and  mirror.  The  door  of  a  small  closet  here 
attracted  the  young  man' s  attention  ;  and  strik- 
ing a  vesta,  he  opened  it  and  entered.  On  a 
table  several  wigs  and  beards  were  lying  spread; 
about  the  walls  hung  an  incongruous  display 
of  suits  and  overcoats  ;  and  conspicuous  among 
the  last  the  young  man  observed  a  large  over- 
all of  the  most  costly  sealskin.  In  a  flash  his 
mind  reverted  to  the  advertisement  in  the 
Standard  newspaper.  The  great  height  of 
his  lodger,  the  disproportionate  breadth  of  his 
shoulders,  and  the  strange  particulars  of  his 
installment,  all  pointed  to  the  same  conclusion. 
The  vesta  had  now  burned  to  his  ringers  ;  and 
taking  the  coat  upon  his  arm,  Somerset  hastily 
returned  to  the  lighted  drawing-room.  There, 
with  a  mixture  of  fear  and  admiration,  he 
pored  upon  its  goodly  proportions  and  the 
regularity  and  softness  of  the  pile.  The  sight 
of  a  large  pier-glass  put  another  fancy  in  his 
head.  He  donned  the  fur-coat ;  and  standing 
before  the  mirror  in  an  attitude  suggestive  of  a 
Russian  prince,  he  thrust  his  hands  into  the 
ample  pockets.  There  his  ringers  encountered 
a  folded  journal.     He  drew  it  out,  and  recog- 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  I 7  9 

nized  the  type  and  paper  of  the  Standard; 
and  at  the  same  instant,  his  eyes  alighted  on 
the  offer  of  two  hundred  pounds.  Plainly  then, 
his  lodger,  now  no  longer  mysterious,  had  laid 
aside  his  coat  on  the  very  day  of  the  appear- 
ance of  the  advertisement. 

He  was  thus  standing,  the  tell-tale  coat  upon 
his  back,  the  incriminating  paper  in  his  hand, 
when  the  door  opened  and  the  tall  lodger,  with 
a  firm  bnt  somewhat  pallid  face,  stepxoed  into 
the  room  and  closed  the  door  behind  him.  For 
some  time,  the  two  looked  upon  each  other  in 
perfect  silence  ;  then  Mr.  Jones  moved  forward 
to  the  table,  took  a  seat,  and,  still  without  once 
changing  the  direction  of  his  eyes,  addressed 
the  young  man. 

"  You  are  right, "  he  said.  "It  is  for  me 
the  blood-money  is  offered.  "And  now  what 
will  you  do?" 

It  was  a  question,  to  which  Somerset  was  far 
from  being  able  to  reply.  Taken  as  he  was  at 
unawares,  masquerading  in  the  man1  s  own  coat, 
and  surrounded  by  a  whole  arsenal  of  diabolical 
explosives,  the  keeper  of  the  lodging-house  was 
silenced. 

"  Yes,"  resumed  the  other,  "  I  am  he.  I  am 
that  man,  whom  with  impotent  hate  and  fear, 
they  still  hunt  from  den  to  den,  from  disguise 
to  disguise.  Yes,  my  landlord,  you  have  it  in 
your  power,  if  you  be  poor,  to  lay  the  basis  of 


1 80  THE  S UPERFL  UO  US  MA NSION. 

your  fortune ;  if  you  be  unknown,  to  capture 
honor  at  one  snatch.  You  have  hocussed  an 
innocent  widow  ;  and  I  find  you  here  in  my 
apartment,  for  whose  use  I  pay  you  in  stamped 
money,  searching  my  wardrobe,  and  your  hand 
— shame,  sir ! — your  hand  in  my  very  pocket. 
You  can  now  complete  the  cycle  of  your  igno- 
minious acts,  by  what  will  be  at  once  the  sim- 
plest, the  safest  and  most  remunerative."  The 
speaker  paused  as  if  to  emphasize  his  words  ; 
and  then,  with  a  great  change  of  tone  and 
manner,  thus  resumed  :  ' '  And  yet,  sir,  when  I 
look  upon  your  face,  I  feel  certain  that  I  can 
not  be  deceived  :  certain  that  in  spite  of  all,  I 
have  the  honor  and  pleasure  of  speaking  to  a 
gentleman.  Take  off  my  coat,  sir — which  but 
cumbers  you.  Divest  yourself  of  this  con- 
fusion :  that  which  is  but  thought  upon,  thank 
God,  need  be  no  burden  to  the  conscience  ;  we 
have  all  harbored  guilty  thoughts ;  and  if  it 
flashed  into  your  mind  to  sell  my  flesh  and 
blood,  my  anguish  in  the  dock,  and  the  sweat 
of  my  death  agony — it  was  a  thought,  dear 
sir,  you  were  as  incapable  of  acting  on,  as  I  of 
any  further  question  of  your  honor."  At  these 
words,  the  speaker,  with  a  very  open,  smiling 
countenance,  like  a  forgiving  father,  offered 
''Somerset  his  hand. 

It  was  not  in  the  young  man's  nature  to  re- 
fuse forgiveness  or    dissect  generosity.      He 


THE  SUP  ERF L  UO  US  MA  NSIOX.  I S I 

instantly,  and  almost  without  thought,  accept- 
ed the  proffered  grasp. 

' '  And  now, ' '  resumed  the  lodger,  ' '  now  that 
I  hold  in  mine  your  loyal  hand,  I  lay  by  my 
apprehensions,  I  dismiss  suspicion,  I  go  further 
— by  an  effort  of  will,  I  banish  the  memory  of 
what  is  past.  How  you  came  here,  I  care  not : 
enough  that  you  are  here — as  my  guest.  Sit 
ye  down  ;  and  let  us,  with  your  good  permis- 
sion, improve  acquaintance  over  a  glass  of  ex- 
cellent whisky." 

So  speaking,  he  produced  glasses  and  a  bottle; 
and  the  pair  pledged  each  other  in  silence. 

"Confess,"  observed  the  smiling  host,  "you 
were  surprised  at  the  appearance  of  the  room." 

"  I  was  indeed,"  said  Somerset ;  "  nor  can  I 
imagine  the  purpose  of  these  changes." 

"These,"  replied  the  conspirator,  "are  the 
devices  by  which  I  continue  to  exist.  Conceive 
me  now,  accused  before  one  of  your  unjust  tri- 
bunals ;  conceive  the  various  witnesses  appear- 
ing, and  the  singular  variety  of  their  reports ! 
One  will  have  visited  me  in  this  drawing-room 
as  it  originally  stood  ;  a  second  finds  it  as  it  is 
to-night ;  and  to-morrow  or  next  day,  all  may 
have  been  changed.  If  you  love  romance  (as 
artists  do),  few  lives  are  more  romantic  than 
that  of  the  obscure  individual  now  addressing 
you.  Obscure  yet  famous.  Mine  is  an  anony- 
mous, infernal  glory.     By  infamous  means,  I 


1 82  THE  SUPERFLUO ^MANSION. 

work  toward  my  bright  purpose.  I  found  the 
liberty  and  peace  of  a  poor  country  desperate- 
ly abused  ;  the  future  smiles  upon  that  land  ; 
yet,  in  the  meantime,  I  lead  the  existence  of  a 
hunted  brute,  work  toward  appalling  ends, 
and  practice  hell's  dexterities." 

Somerset,  glass  in  hand,  contemplated  the 
strange  fanatic  before  him,  and  listened  to  his 
heated  rhapsody  with  indescribable  bewilder- 
ment. He  looked  him  in  the  face  with  curious 
particularity  ;  saw  there  the  marks  of  educa- 
tion ;  and  wondered  the  more  profoundly. 

"  Sir,"  he  said — "for  I  know  not  whether  I 
should  still  address  you  as  Mr.  Jones " 

"Jones,  Breitman,  Higginbotliam,  Pumper- 
nickel, Daviotj  Henderland,  by  all  or  any  of 
these  you  may  address  me,"  said  the  plotter  ; 
"for  all  I  have  at  some  time  borne.  Yet  that 
which  I  most  price,  that  which  is  most  feared, 
hated  and  obeyed,  is  not  a  name  to  be  found  in 
your  directories  ;  it  is  not  a  name  current  in 
post-offices  or  banks  ;  and  indeed,  like  the  cele- 
brated clan  M'Gregor,  I  may  justly  describe 
myself  as  being  nameless  by  day.  But,"  he 
continued,  rising  to  his  feet,  ' '  by  night,  and 
among  my  desperate  followers,  I  am  the  re- 
doubted Zero." 

Somerset  was  unacquainted  with  the  name ; 
but  he  politely  expressed  surprise  and  gratifi- 
cation.    u  I  am  to  understand,"  he  continued, 


THE  S UPE'RFEUO  US  MA  NSION.  1 83 

"that,  under  this  alias,  you  follow  the  profes- 
sion of  a  dynamiter  ? "  ' 

The  plotter  had  resumed  his  seat  and  now 
replenished  the  glasses. 

"I  do,"  he  said.  "In  this  dark  period  of 
time,  a  star — the  star  of  dynamite — has  risen 
for  the  oppressed  ;  and  among  those  who  prac- 
tice its  use,  so  thick  beset  with  dangers  and  at- 
tended by  such  incredible  difficulties  and  dis- 
appointments, few  have  been  more  assiduous, 

and  not  many ' '     He  paused,   and  a  shade 

of  embarrassment  appeared  upon  his  face — 
"not  many  have  been  more  successful  than 
myself." 

"  I  can  imagine,"  observed  Somerset,  "  that, 
from  the  sweeping  consequences  looked  for,  the 
career  is  not  devoid  of  interest.  You  have,  be- 
sides, some  of  the  entertainment  of  the  game 
of  hide  and  seek.  But  it  would  still  seem  to 
me — I  speak  as  a  layman — that  nothing  could 


The  Arabian  author  of  the  original  has  here  a  long 
passage  conceived  in  a  style  too  oriental  for  the  English 
reader.  We  subjoin  a  specimen,  and  it  seems  doubtful 
whether  it  should  be  printed  as  prose  or  verse  :  ' '  Any 
writard  who  writes  dynamitard  shall  find  in  me  a  never- 
resting  fightard  ;  "  and  he  goes  on  (if  we  correctly  gather 
his  meaning)  to  object  to  such  elegant  and  obviously  correct 
spellings  as  lamp-lightard,  corn-dealard,  apple-filchard 
(clearly  justified  by  the  parallel— pilchard)  and  opera  dan- 
card.     u  Dynamitist,"  he  adds,  "  I  could  understand." 


1 84  THE  SUPERFL  UO US  MANSION. 

be  simpler  or  safer  than  to  dejjosit  an  infernal 
machine  and  retire  to  an  adjacent  county  to 
await  the  painful  consequences." 

"You  speak,  indeed,"  returned  the  plotter, 
with  some  evidence  of  warmth,  "you  speak, 
indeed,  most  ignorantly.  Do  you  make  noth- 
ing, then,  of  such  a  peril  as  weshare  this 
moment  \  Do  you  think  it  nothing  to  occupy 
a  house  like  this  one,  mined,  menaced,  and,  in 
a  word,  literally  tottering  to  its  fall  \  " 

"  Good  God  !  "  ejaculated  Somerset. 

"And  when  you  speak  of  ease,"  pursued 
Zero,  ' '  in  this  age  of  scientific  studies,  you  fill 
me  with  surprise.  Are  you  not  aware  that 
chemicals  are  proverbially  as  fickle  as  woman, 
and  clockwork  as  capricious  as  the  very  devil  \ 
Do  you  see  on  my  brow  these  furrows  of  anxi- 
ety? do  you  observe  the  silver  threads  that 
mingle  with  my  hair  \  Clockwork,  clockwork 
has  stamped  them  on  my  brow — chemicals  have 
sprinkled  them  upon  my  locks  !  No,  Mr.  Som- 
erset," he  resumed,  after  a  moment's  pause,  his 
voice  still  quivering  with  sensibility,  "you 
must  not  suppose  the  dynamiter' s  life  to  be  all 
gold.  On  the  contrary :  you  can  not  picture  to 
yourself  the  bloodshot  vigils  and  the  stagger- 
ing disappointments  of  a  life  like  mine.  I  have 
toiled  (let  us  say)  for  months,  up  early  and 
down  late  ;  my  bag  is  ready,  my  clock  set ;  a 
daring  agent  has  hurried  with  white  face  to 


THE  SUPERFL  UO US  MANSION.  1 85 

deposit  the  instrument  of  ruin  ;  we  await  the 
fall  of  England,  the  massacre  of  thousands,  the 
yell  of  fear  and  execration  ;  and  lo  !  a  snap 
like  that  of  a  child' s  pistol,  an  offensive  smell, 
and  the  entire  loss  of  so  much  time  and  plant ! 
If,"  he  continued,  musingly,  "we  had  been 
merely  able  to  recover  the  lost  bags,  I  believe 
with  but  a  touch  or  two,  I  could  have  remedied 
the  peccant  engine.  But  what  with  the  loss  of 
plant  and  the  almost  insuperable  scientific  diffi- 
culties of  the  task,  our  friends  in  France  are 
almost  ready  to  desert  the  chosen  medium. 
They  propose,  instead,  to  break  up  the  drain- 
age system  of  cities  and  sweep  off  whole  popu- 
lations with  the  devastating  typhoid  pestilence  : 
a  tempting  and  a  scientific  project :  a  process, 
indiscriminate  indeed,  but  of  idylical  sim- 
plicity. I  recognize  its  elegance  ;  but,  sir,  I 
have  something  of  the  poet  in  my  nature  ;  some- 
thing, possibly,  of  the  tribune.  And,  for  my 
small  part,  I  shall  remain  devoted  to  that  more 
emphatic,  more  striking,  and  (if  you  please) 
more  popular  method,  of  the  explosive  bomb. 
Yes,"  he  cried,  with  unshaken  hope,  "I  will 
still  continue,  and  I  feel  it  in  my  bosom  I  shall 
yet  succeed." 

' '  Two  things  I  remark, ' '  said  Somerset.  ' '  The 
first  somewhat  staggers  me.  Have  you,  then — 
in  all  this  course  of  life,  which  you  have  sketched 
so  vividly — have  you  not  once  succeeded  \ ' ' 


1 86  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Zero.  "  I  have  had  one 
success.  You  behold  in  me  the  author  of  the 
outrage  of  Red  Lion  Court." 

"  But  if  I  remember  right,"  objected  Somer- 
set, "the  thing  was  a  fiasco.  A  scavengers 
barrow  and  some  copies  of  the  '  Weekly  Budget ' 
— these  were  the  only  victims." 

"  You  will  pardon  me  again,"  returned  Zero 
with  positive  asperity  ;  "a  child  was  injured." 

"And  that  fitly  brings  me  to  my  second 
point,"  said  Somerset.  "Fori  observed  you 
to  employ  the  word  'indiscriminate.'  Now, 
surely,  a  scavenger's  barrow  and  a  child  (if 
child  there  was)  represent  the  very  acme  and 
top  pin-point  of  indiscriminate,  and,  pardon 
me,  of  ineffectual  reprisal." 

"Did  I  employ  the  word?"  asked  Zero. 
"  Well,  I  will  not  defend  it.  But  for  efficiency, 
you  touch  on  graver  matters  ;  and  before  enter- 
ing upon  so  vast  a  subject,  permit  me  once  more 
to  fill  our  glasses.  Disputation  is  dry  work," 
he  added,  with  a  charming  gayety  of  manner. 

Once  more  accordingly  the  pair  pledged  each 
other  in  a  stalwart  grog  ;  and  Zero,  leaning 
back  with  an  air  of  some  complacency,  pro- 
ceeded more  largely  to  develop  his  opinions. 

"The  indiscriminate,"  he  began.  "War, 
my  dear  sir,  is  indiscriminate.  War  spares  not 
the  child  ;  it  spares  not  the  barrow  of  the  harm- 
less scavenger.    No  mure,"  he  concluded,  beam- 


'  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  187 

ing,  "no  more  do  I.  Whatever  may  strike 
fear,  whatever  may  confound  or  paralyze  the 
activities  of  the  guilty  nation,  barrow  or  child, 
imperial  Parliament  or  excursion  steamer,  is 
welcome  to  my  simple  plans.  You  are  not," 
he  inquired,  with  a  shade  of  sympathetic  inter- 
est, "you  are  not,  I  trust,  a  believer?" 

"Sir,  I  believe  in  nothing,"  said  the  young 
man. 

"You  are  then,"  replied  Zero,  "in  position 
to  grasp  my  argument.  We  agree  that  human- 
ity is  the  object,  the  glorious  triumph  of  human- 
ity ;  and  being  pledged  to  labor  for  that  end, 
and  face  to  face  with  the  banded  opposition  of 
kings,  parliaments,  churches,  and  the  members 
of  the  force,  who  am  I — who  are  we,  dear  sir — 
to  affect  a  nicety  about  the  tools  employed? 
You  might  perhaps,  expect  us  to  attack  the 
Queen,  the  sinister  Gladstone,  the  rigid  Derby, 
or  the  dexterous  Granville  ;  but  there  you  would 
be  in  error.  Our  appeal  is  to  the  body  of  the 
people  ;  it  is  these  that  we  would  touch  and 
interest.  Now,  sir,  have  you  observed  the  En- 
glish housemaid  ? ' ' 

"  I  should  think  I  had,"  cried  Somerset. 

' '  From  a  man  of  taste  and  a  votary  of  art,  I 
had  expected  it,"  returned  the  conspirator 
politely.  "A  type  apart;  a  very  charming 
figure;  and  thoroughly  adapted  to  our  ends. 
The  neat  cap,  the  clean  print,  the  comely  per- 


1 88  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB. 

son,  the  engaging  manner  ;  her  position  between 
classes,  parents  in  one,  employers  in  another ; 
the  probability  that  she  will  have  at  least  one 
sweetheart,  whose  feelings  we  shall  address  : — 
yes,  I  have  a  leaning — call  it,  if  yon  will,  a 
weakness — for  the  housemaid.  Not  that  I 
wonld  be  understood  to  despise  the  nnrse.  For 
the  child  is  a  very  interesting  feature  :  I  have 
long  since  marked  out  the  child  as  the  sensitive 
point  in  society/'  He  wagged  his  head,  with 
a  wise,  pensive  smile.  "  And  talking,  sir,  of 
children  and  of  the  perils  of  our  trade,  let  me 
now  narrate  to  you  a  little  incident  of  an  explo- 
sive bomb,  that  fell  out  some  weeks  ago  under 
my  own  observation.     It  fell  out  thus." 

And  Zero,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  narrated 
the  following  simple  tale. 


ZERO'S  TALE  OF  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB} 

I  DINED  by  appointment  with  one  of  our 
most  trusted  agents,  in  a  private  chamber 
at  St.  James's  Hall.  You  have  seen  the  man  : 
it  was  M'  Guire,  the  most  chivalrous  of  creatures, 

1  The  Arabian  author,  with  that  quaint  particularity  of 
touch  which  our  translation  usually  pretermits,  here  regis- 
ters a  somewhat  interesting  detail.  Zero  pronounced  the  word 
"  boom  ";  and  the  reader,  if  but  for  the  nonce,  will  possibly 
consent  to  follow  him. 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB.  189 

but  not  himself  expert  in  our  contrivances. 
Hence  the  necessity  of  our  meeting  ;  for  I  need 
not  remind  you  what  enormous  issues  depend 
upon  the  nice  adjustment  of  the  engine.  I  set 
our  little  petard  for  half  an  hour,  the  scene  of 
action  being  hard  by  ;  and  the  better  to  avert 
miscarriage,  employed  a  device,  a  recent  inven- 
tion of  my  own,  by  which  the  opening  of  the 
Gladstone  bag  in  which  the  bomb  was  carried, 
should  instantly  determine  the  explosion. 
M'  Guire  was  somewhat  dashed  by  this  arrange- 
ment, which  was  new  to  him  ;  and  pointed  out, 
with  excellent,  clear  good  sense  that  should 
he  be  arrested,  it  would  probably  involve  him 
in  the  fall  of  our  opponents.  But  I  was  not  to 
be  moved,  made  a  strong  appeal  to  his  patriot- 
ism, gave  him  a  good  glass  of  whisky,  and 
dispatched  him  on  his  glorious  errand. 

Our  objective  was  the  effigy  of  Shakespeare 
in  Leicester  Square  :  a  spot,  I  think,  admirably 
chosen  ;  not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  dramatist, 
still  very  foolishly  claimed  as  a  glory  by  the 
English  race,  in  spite  of  his  disgusting  political 
opinions  ;  but  from  the  fact  that  the  seats  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  are  often  thronged 
by  children,  errand-boys,  unfortunate  young 
ladies  of  the  poorer  class  and  infirm  old  men — 
all  classes  making  a  direct  appeal  to  public 
pity,  and  therefore  suitable  with  our  designs. 
As  W  Guire  drew  near  his  heart  was  inflamed 


190  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB. 

by  the  most  noble  sentiment  of  triumph.  Never 
had  he  seen  the  garden  so  crowded  ;  children, 
still  stumbling  in  the  impotence  of  youth,  ran 
to  and  fro,  shouting  and  playing,  round  the 
pedestal ;  an  old,  sick  pensioner  sat  upon  the 
nearest  bench,  a  medal  on  his  breast,  a  stick 
with  which  he  walked  (for  he  was  disabled  by 
wounds)  reclining  on  his  knee.  Guilty  England 
would  thus  be  stabbed  in  the  most  delicate 
quarters  ;  the  moment  had,  indeed,  been  well 
selected  ;  and  M'Guire,  with  a  radiant  prevision 
of  the  event,  drew  merrily  nearer.  Suddenly 
his  eye  alighted  on  the  burly  form  of  a  police- 
man, standing  hard  by  the  effigy  in  an  attitude 
of  watch.  My  bold  companion  paused ;  he 
looked  about  him  closely;  here  and -there,  at 
different  points  of  the  inclosure,  other  men 
stood  or  loitered,  affecting  an  abstraction, 
feigning  to  gaze  upon  the  shrubs,  feigning  to 
talk,  feigning  to  be  weary  and  to  rest  upon  the 
benches.  M'  Guire  was  no  child  in  these  affairs  ; 
he  instantly  divined  one  of  the  plots  of  the 
Machiavellian  Gladstone. 

A  chief  difficulty  with  which  we  have  to  deal, 
is  a  certain  nervousness  in  the  subaltern 
branches  of  the  corps ;  as  the  hour  of  some 
design  draws  near,  these  chicken-souled  con- 
spirators appear  to  suffer  some  revulsion  of 
intent :  and  frequently  dispatch  to  the  authori- 
ties, not  indeed  specific  denunciations,  but  vague 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB.  191 

anonymous  warnings.  But  for  this  purely 
accidental  circumstance,  England  had  long  ago 
been  an  historical  expression.  On  the  receipt 
of  such  a  letter,  the  Government  lay  a  trap  for 
their  adversaries,  and  surround  the  threatened 
spot  with  hirelings.  My  blood  sometimes  boils 
in  my  veins,  when  I  consider  the  case  of 
those  who  sell  themselves  for  money  in  such  a 
cause.  True,  thanks  to  the  generosity  of  our 
supporters,  we  patriots  receive  a  very  comfort- 
able stipend  ;  I,  myself,  of  course,  touch  a 
salary  which  puts  me  quite  beyond  the  reach 
of  any  peddling,  mercenary  thoughts  ;  W  Guire, 
again,  ere  he  joined  our  ranks,  was  on  the 
brink  of  starving,  and  now,  thank  God ! 
receives  a  decent  income.  That  is  as  it  should 
be  ;  the  patriot  must  not  be  diverted  from  his 
task  by  any  base  consideration  ;  and  the  dis- 
tinction between  our  position  and  that  of  the 
police  is  too  obvious  to  be  stated. 

Plainly,  however,  our  Leicester  Square  design 
had  been  divulged  ;  the  Government  had  craft- 
ily filled  the  place  with  minions  ;  even  the  pen- 
sioner was  not  improbably  a  hireling  in  dis- 
guise ;  and  our  emissary,  without  other  aid  or 
protection  than  the  simple  apparatus  in  his 
bag,  found  himself  confronted  by  force  ;  brutal 
force  ;  that  strong  hand  which  was  a  character 
of  the  ages  of  oppression.  Should  he  venture 
to  deposit  the  machine,  it  was  almost  certain 


192  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB. 

that  he  would  be  observed  and  arrested  ;  a  cry 
would  arise  ;  and  there  was  just  a  fear  that  the 
police  might  not  be  present  in  sufficient  force, 
to  protect  him  from  the  savagery  of  the  mob. 
The  scheme  must  be  delayed.  He  stood  with 
his  bag  on  his  arm,  pretending  to  survey  the 
front  of  the  Alhambra,  when  there  flashed  into 
his  mind  a  thought  to  appall  the  bravest.  The 
machine  was  set ;  at  the  appointed  hour  it 
must  explode ;  and  how,  in  the  interval,  was 
he  to  be  rid  of  it  ? 

Put  yourself,  I  beseech  you,  into  the  body  of 
that  patriot.  There  he  was,  friendless  and 
helpless  ;  a  man  in  the  very  flower  of  life,  for 
he  is  not  yet  forty  ;  with  long  years  of  happi- 
ness before  him  ;  and  now  condemned,  in  one 
moment,  to  a  cruel  and  revolting  .death  by 
dynamite !  The  square,  he  said,  went  round 
him  like  a  thaumatrope  ;  he  saw  the  Alham- 
bra leap  into  the  air  like  a  balloon  ;  and  reeled 
against  the  railing.     It  is  probable  he  fainted. 

When  he  came  to  himself,  a  constable  had 
him  by  the  arm. 

"  My  God  !  "  he  cried. 

"  You  seem  to  be  unwell,  sir,"  said  the  hire- 
ling. 

"I  feel  better  now,"  cried  poor  M'Gruire  ;  and 
with  uneven  steps,  for  the  pavement  of  the 
square  seemed  to  lurch  and  reel  under  his  foot- 
ing, he  fled  from  the  scene   of  this  disaster. 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB,       ,  193 

Fled  ?  Alas,  from  what  was  lie  fleeing?  Did  lie 
not  carry  that  from  which  he  fled,  along  with 
him  %  and  had  he  the  wings  of  the  eagle,  had 
he  the  swiftness  of  the  ocean  winds,  could  he 
have  been  rapt  into  the  uttermost  quarters  of 
the  earth,  how  should  he  escape  the  ruin  that 
he  carried  ?  We  have  heard  of  living  men  who 
have  been  fettered  to  the  dead  ;  the  grievance, 
soberly  considered,  is  no  more  than  sentimen- 
tal ;  the  case  is  but  a  flea-bite  to  that  of  him 
who  was  linked,  like  poor  M'Guire,  to  an 
explosive  bomb. 

A  thought  struck  him  in  Green  Street,  like 
a  dart  through  his  liver ;  suppose  it  were 
the  hour  already.  He  stopped  as  though  he 
had  been  shot,  and  plucked  his  watch  out. 
There  was  a  howling  in  his  ears,  as  loud  as  a 
winter  tempest ;  his  sight  was  now  obscured  as 
if  by  a  cloud,  now,  as  by  a  lightning  flash, 
would  show  him  the  very  dust  upon  the  street. 
But  so  brief  were  these  intervals  of  vision,  and 
so  violently  did  the  watch  vibrate  in  his  hands, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  the  num- 
bers on  the  dial.  He  covered  his  eyes  for  a  few 
seconds  ;  and  in  that  space,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  fallen  to  be  a  man  of  ninety.  When 
he  looked  again,  the  watch-plate  had  grown 
legible :  he  had  twenty  minutes.  Twenty 
minutes,  and  no  plan  ! 

Green  Street  at  that  time,  was  very  empty  ; 


194  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB, 

and  he  now  observed  a  little  girl  of  about  six 
drawing  near  to  him  and,  as  she  came,  kicking 
in  front  of  her,  as  children  will,  a  piece  of 
wood.  She  sang,  too  ;  and  something  in  her 
accent  recalling  him  to  the  past,  produced  a 
sudden  clearness  in  his  mind.  Here  was  a 
God-sent  opportunity  ! 

"My  dear,"  said  he,  "would  you  like  a 
present  of  a  pretty  bag  \ " 

The  child  cried  aloud  with  joy  and  put  out 
her  hands  to  take  it.  She  had  looked  first  at 
the  bag,  like  a  true  child  ;  but  most  unfortu- . 
nately,  before  she  had  yet  received  the  fatal 
gift,  her  eyes  fell  directly  on  M'Guire  ;  and  no 
sooner  had  she  seen  the  poor  gentleman' s  face, 
than  she  screamed  out  and  leaped  backward, 
as  though  she  had  seen  the  devil.  Almost  at 
the  same  moment,  a  woman  appeared  upon  the 
threshold  of  a  neighboring  shop,  and  called 
upon  the  child  in  anger.  "Come  here,  col- 
leen," she  said,  "and  don't  be  plaguing  the 
poor  old  gentleman  !  "  With  that  she  re- 
entered the  house,  and  the  child  followed  her, 
sobbing  aloud. 

With  the  loss  of  this  hope  M'  Guire's  reason 
swooned  within  him.  When  next  he  awoke  to 
consciousness,  he  was  standing  before  St.  Mar- 
tin's-in-the-Fields,  wavering  like  a  drunken 
man  ;  the  passers-by  regarding  him  with  eyes 
in .  which  he  read,  as  in  a  glass,  an  image  of 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB.  195 

the  terror  and  horror  that  dwelt  within  his 
own. 

"  I  am  afraid  yon  are  very  ill,  sir,"  observed 
a  woman,  stopping  and  gazing  hard  -in  his  face. 
' '  Can  I  do  any  thing  to  help  you  \ ' ' 

"  111  % "  said  M'  Gnire.  "O  God  ! "  And 
then,  recovering  some  shadow  of  his  self-com- 
mand, "Chronic,  madam,"  said  he;  "a  long 
course  of  the  dumb  ague.  But  since  you  are 
so  compassionate — an  errand  that  I  lack  the 
strength  to  carry  out,"  he  gasped — "this  bag 
to  Portman  Square.  O  compassionate  woman, 
as  you  hope  to  be  saved,  as  you  are  a  mother, 
in  the  name  of  your  babies  that  wait  to  wel- 
come you  at  home,  oh  take  this  bag  to  Portman 
Square!  I  have  a  mother,  too,"  he  added, 
with  a  broken  voice.  "Number  19,  Portman 
Square." 

I  suppose  he  had  expressed  himself  with  too 
much  energy  of  voice  ;  for  the  woman  was 
plainly  taken  with  a  certain  fear  of  him. 
"  Poor  gentleman  !  "  said  she.  "  If  I  were  you, 
I  would  go  home."  And  she  left  him  standing 
there  in  his  distress. 

' '  Home  ! ' '  thought  M1  Guire,  ' '  what  a 
derision  ! ' '  What  home  was  there  for  him, 
the  victim  of  philanthropy  %  He  thought  of 
his  old  mother,  of  his  happy  youth  ;  of  the 
hideous,  rending  pang  of  the  explosion  ;  of  the 
X^ossibility  that  he  might  not  be  killed,  that  he 


196  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB. 

might  be  cruelly  mangled,  crippled  for  life, 
condemned  to  life-long  pains,  blinded  perhaps, 
and  almost  surely  deafened.  Ah,  you  spoke 
lightly  of  the  dynamiter's  peril ;  but  even  waiv- 
ing death,  have  you  realized  what  it  is  for  a 
fine,  brave  young  man  of  forty,  to  be  smitten 
suddenly  with  deafness,  cut  off  from  all  the 
music  of  life,  and  from  the  voice  of  friendship 
and  love  %  How  little  do  we  realize  the  suffer- 
ings of  others  !  Even  your  brutal  Government, 
in  the  heyday  of  its  lust  for  cruelty,  though  it 
scruples  not  to  hound  the  patriot  with  spies,  to 
pack  the  corrupt  jury,  to  bribe  the  hangman, 
and  to  erect  the  infamous  gallows,  would  hesi- 
tate to  inflict  so  horrible  a  doom :  not,  I  am 
well  aware,  from  virtue,  not  from  philanthropy, 
but  with  the  fear  before  it  of  the  withering 
scorn  of  the  good. 

But  I  wander  from  M'Guire.  From  this 
dread  glance  into  the  past  and  future,  his 
thoughts  returned  at  a  bound  upon  the  present. 
How  had  he  wandered  there  \  and  how  long— 
O  heavens  !  how  long  had  he  been  about  it  % 
He  pulled  out  his  watch  ;  and  found  that  but 
three  minutes  had  elapsed.  It  seemed  too  bright 
a  thing  to  be  believed.  He  glanced  at  the 
church  clock ;  and  sure  enough,  it  marked  an 
hour  four  minutes  faster  than  the  watch. 

Of  all  that  he  endured,  M1  Guire  declares  that 
pang  was  the  most  desolate.     Till  then  lie  had 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB.  197 

had  one  friend,  one  counselor,  in  whom  he  plen- 
arily  trusted  ;  by  whose  advertisement,  he  num- 
bered the  minutes  that  remained  to  him  of  life  ; 
on  whose  sure  testimony,  he  could  tell  when 
the  time  was  come  to  risk  the  last  adventure 
to  cast  the  bag  away  from  him,  and  take  to 
flight.  And  now  in  what  was  he  to  place  reli- 
ance ?  His  watch  was  slow ;  it  might  be  losing- 
time  ;  if  so,  in  what  degree  ?  What  limit  could 
he  set  to  its  derangement  ?  and  how  much  was 
it  possible  for  a  watch  to  lose  in  thirty  min- 
utes ?  Five?  ten?  fifteen?  It  might  be  so; 
already  it  seemed  years  since  he  had  left  St. 
James' s  Hall  on  this  so  promising  enterprise  ; 
at  any  moment,  then,  the  blow  was  to  be  looked 
for. 

In  the  face  of  this  new  distress,  the  wild  dis- 
order of  his  pulses  settled  down  ;  and  a  broken 
weariness  succeeded,  as  though  he  had  lived 
for  centuries  and  for  centuries  been  dead.  The 
buildings  and  the  people  in  the  street  became 
incredibly  small,  and  far-away,  and  bright ; 
London  sounded  in  his  ears  stilly,  like  a  whis- 
per; and  the  rattle  of  the  cab  that  nearly 
charged  him  down,  was  like  a  sound  from 
Africa.  Meanwhile,  he  was  conscious  of  a 
strange  abstraction  from  himself ;  and  heard 
and  felt  his  footfalls  on  the  ground,  as  those  of 
a  very  old,  small,  debile  and  tragically  for- 
tuned man,  whom  he  sincerely  pitied. 


198  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB. 

As  lie  was  thus  moving  forward  past  the  Na- 
tional Gallery,  in  a  medium,  it  seemed,  of  great- 
er rarety  and  quiet  than  ordinary  air,  there 
slipped  into  his  mind  the  recollection  of  a  cer- 
tain entry  in  Whitcomb  Street  hard  by,  where 
he  might  perhaps  lay  down  his  tragic  cargo  un- 
remarked. Thither,  then,  he  bent  his  steps, 
seeming,  as  he  went,  to  float  above  the  pave- 
ment ;  and  there,  in  the  mouth  of  the  entry,  he 
found  a  man  in  a  sleeved  waistcoat,  gravely 
chewing  a  straw.  He  passed  him  by,  and  twice 
patroled  the  entry,  scouting  for  the  barest 
chance  ;  but  the  man  had  faced  about  and 
continued  to  observe  him  curiously. 

Another  hope  was  gone.  M'Guire  reissued 
from  the  entry,  still  followed  by  the  wondering 
eyes  of  the  man  in  the  sleeved  waistcoat.  He 
once  more  consulted  his  watch  :  there  was  but 
fourteen  minutes  left  to  him.  At  that,  it 
seemed  as  if  a  sudden,  genial  heat  were  spread 
about  his  brain  ;  for  a  second  or  two,  he  saw  the 
world  as  red  as  blood  ;  and  thereafter  entered 
into  a  complete  possession  of  himself,  with  an 
incredible  cheerfulness  of  spirits,  prompting 
him  to  sing  and  chuckle  as  he  walked.  And 
yet  this  mirth  seemed  to  belong  to  things  exter- 
nal ;  and  within  like  a  black  and  leaden-heavy 
kernel,  he  was  conscious  of  the  weight  upon 

his  soul. 

I  care  for  nobody,  no,  not  I, 
And  nobody  cares  for  me, 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB.  199 

he  sang,  and  laughed  at  the  appropriate  bur- 
den, so  that  the  passengers  stared  upon  him  on 
the  street.  And  still  the  warmth  seemed  to 
increase  and  to  become  more  genial.  What 
was  life  ?  he  considered,  and  what  he,  M'  Guire  % 
What  even  Erin,  our  green  Erin  %  All 
seemed  so  incalculably  little  that  he  smiled  as 
he  looked  down  upon  it.  He  would  have  given 
years,  had  he  possessed  them,  for  a  glass  of 
spirits  ;  but  time  failed,  and  he  must  deny  him- 
self this  last  indulgence. 

At  the  corner  of  the  Haymarket,  he  very 
jauntily  hailed  a  hansom  cab ;  jumped  in ; 
bade  the  fellow  drive  him  to  a  part  of  the 
Embankment,  which  he  named ;  and  as  soon 
as  the  vehicle  was  in  motion,  concealed  the  bag 
as  completely  as  he  could  under  the  vantage  of 
the  apron,  and  once  more  drew  out  his  watch. 
So  he  rode  for  live  interminable  minutes,  his 
heart  in  his  mouth  at  every  jolt,  scarce  able  to 
possess  his  terrors,  yet  fearing  to  wake  the 
attention  of  the  driver  by  too  obvious  a  change 
of  plan,  and  willing,  if  possible,  to  leave  him 
time  to  forget  the  Gladstone  bag. 

At  length,  at  the  head  of  some  stairs  on  the 
Embankment,  he  hailed  ;  the  cab  was  stopped, 
and  he  alighted — with  how  glad  a  heart !  He 
thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket.  All  was  now 
over  ;  he  had  saved  his  life  ;  nor  that  alcne, 
but  he  had  engineered  a  striking  act  of  dyna- 


200  THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB. 

mite  ;  for  what  could  be  more  pictorial,  what 
more  effective,  than  the  explosion  of  a  hansom 
cab  as  it  sped  rapidly  along  the  streets  of  Lon- 
don. He  felt  in  one  pocket,  then  in  another. 
The  most  crushing  seizure  of  despair  descended 
on  his  soul,  and  struck  into  abject  dumbness, 
he  stared  upon  the  driver.  He  had  not  one 
penny. 

"  Hillo,"  said  the  driver;  " don't  seem 
well." 

"  Lost  my  money,"  said  M'Guire,  in  tones  so 
faint  and  strange  that  they  surprised  his  hear- 
ing. 

The  man  looked  through  the  trap.  "Ides- 
say,"  said  he  ;  "you've  left  your  bag." 

M'Guire  half  unconsciously  fetched  it  out, 
and  looking  on  that  black  continent  at  arm's 
length,  withered  inwardly  and  felt  his  features 
sharpen  as  with  mortal  sickness. 

"This  is  not  mine,"  said  he.  "Your  last 
fare  must  have  left  it.  You  had  better  take  it 
to  the  station." 

"Now  look  here,"  returned  the  cabman, 
"  are  you  off  your  chump  ?  or  am  I  % " 

"Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what,"  exclaimed 
M'Guire,  "you  take  it  for  your  fare." 

"  Oh,  I  dessay,"  replied  the  driver.  "Any 
thing  else  ?  What' s  in  your  bag  \  Open  it  and 
let  me  see." 

"  No,  no,"  returned  M'Guire.     "  Oh,  no,  not 


THE  EXPLOSIVE  BOMB.  201 

that.  It's  a  surprise  ;  it's  prepared  expressly  ; 
a  surprise  for  honest  cabmen." 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  the  man,  alighting 
from  his  perch,  and  coming  very  close  to  the 
unhappy  patriot.  ' '  You'  re  either  going  to  pay 
my  fare,  or  get  in  again  and  drive  to  the 
office." 

It  was  at  this  supreme  hour  of  his  distress 
that  M'  Guire  spied  the  stout  figure  of  one  God- 
all,  a  tobacconist  of  Rupert  Street,  drawing 
near  along  the  Embankment.  The  man  was 
not  unknown  to  him  ;  he  had  bought  of  his 
wares,  and  heard  him  quoted  for  the  soul  of 
liberality ;  and  such  was  now  the  nearness  of 
his  peril  that  even  at  such  a  straw  of  hope  he 
clutched  with  gratitude. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  he  cried.  "  Here  comes  a 
friend  of  mine.  I'll  borrow."  And  he  dashed 
to  meet  the  tradesman.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  Mr. 
Godall,  I  have  dealt  with  you — you  doubtless 
know  my  face — calamities  for  which  I  can  not 
blame  myself  have  overwhelmed  me.  Oh, 
sir,  for  the  love  of  innocence,  for  the  sake  of 
the  bonds  of  humanity,  and  as  you  hope  for 
mercy  at  the  throne  of  grace,  lend  me  two-and- 
six!" 

"I  do  not  recognize  your  face,"  replied  Mr. 
Godall;  "but  I  remember  the  cut  of  your 
beard,  which  I  have  the  misfortune  to  dislike. 
Here,  sir,  is  a  sovereign,  which  I  very  willingly 


202  THE  S  UPERFL  U0  US  MA  NSJON. 

advance  to  you  on  the  single  condition  that  you 
shave  your  chin." 

M'  Guire  grasped  the  coin  without  a  word, 
cast  it  to  the  cabman,  calling  out  to  him 
to  keep  the  change  ;  bounded  down  the 
steps,  flung  the  bag  far  forth  into  the  river,  and 
fell  headlong  after  it.  He  was  plucked  from 
a  watery  grave,  it  is  believed,  by  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Godall.  Even  as  he  was  being  hoisted, 
dripping,  to  the  shore,  a  dull  and  choked  ex- 
plosion shook  the  solid  masonry  of  the  Em- 
bankment, and  far  out  in  the  river  a  moment- 
ary fountain  rose  and  disappeared. 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION  {continued). 

SOMERSET  in  vain  strove  to  attach  a  meaning 
to  these  words.  He  had  in  the  meanwhile 
applied  himself  assiduously  to  the  flagon  ;  the 
plotter  began  to  melt  in  twain,  and  seemed  to 
expand  and  hover  on  his  seat,  and  with  a  vague 
sense  of  nightmare,  the  young  man  rose  un- 
steadily to  his  feet,  and,  refusing  the  proff er  of 
a  third  grog,  insisted  that  the  hour  was  late  and 
he  must  positively  go  to  bed. 

"  Dear  me,"  observed  Zero,  "  I  find  you  very 
temperate.  But  I  will  not  be  oppressive. 
Suffice  it  that  we  are  now  fast  friends  ;  and,  my 
dear  landlord,  au  revoir  !  " 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  203 

So  saying  the  plotter  once  more  shook  hands; 
and  with  the  politest  ceremonies,  and  some 
necessary  guidance,  conducted  the  hewiklered 
young  gentleman  to  the  top  of  the  stair. 

Precisely  how  he  got  to  bed  was  a  i3oint  on 
which  Somerset  remained  in  utter  darkness  ; 
but  the  next  morning  when,  at  a  blow,  he 
started  broad  awake,  there  fell  upon  his  mind 
a  perfect  hurricane  of  horror  and  wonder.  That 
he  should  have  suffered  himself  to  be  led  into 
the  semblance  of  intimacy  with  such  a  man  as 
his  abominable  lodger,  appeared,  in  the  cold 
light  of  day,  a  mystery  of  human  weakness. 
True,  he  was  caught  in  a  situation  that  might 
have  tested  the  aplomb  of  Talleyrand.  That 
was  perhaps  a  palliation  ;  but  it  was  no  excuse. 
For  so  wholesale  a  capitulation  of  principle, 
for  such  a  fall  into  criminal  familiarity,  no  ex- 
cuse indeed  was  possible  ;  nor  any  remedy,  but 
to  withdraw  at  once  from  the  relation. 

As  soon  as  he  was  dressed,  he  hurried  up 
stairs,  determined  on  a  rupture.  Zero  hailed 
him  with  the  warmth  of  an  old  friend. 

"  Come  in,"  he  cried,  "  dear  Mr.  Somerset ! 
Come  in,  sit  down,  and  without  ceremony,  join 
me  at  my  morning  meal." 

"  Sir,"  said  Somerset,  u  you  must  permit  me 
first  to  disengage  my  honor.  Last  night  I  was 
surprised  into  a  certain  appearance  of  complic- 
ity ;  but  once  for  all,  let  me  inform  you  that  I 


2  04  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

regard  you  and  your  machinations  with  un- 
mingled  horror  and  disgust,  and  I  will 
leave  no  stone  unturned  to  crush  your  vile 
conspiracy." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  replied  Zero,  with  an  air 
of  some  complacency,  "lam  well  accustomed 
to  these  human  weaknesses.  Disgust  %  I  have 
felt  it  myself  ;  it  speedily  wears  off.  I  think 
none  the  worse,  I  think  the  more  of  you  for  this 
engaging  frankness.  And  in  the  meanwhile, 
what  are  you  to  do  %  You  find  yourself,  if  I  in- 
terpret rightly,  in  very  much  the  same  situation 
as  Charles  the  Second  (possibly  the  least  de- 
graded of  your  British  sovereigns)  when  he  was 
taken  into  the  confidence  of  the  thief.  To  de- 
nounce me,  is  out  of  the  question  ;  and  what 
else  can  you  attempt  \  No,  clear  Mr.  Somerset, 
your  hands  are  tied  ;  and  you  find  yourself  con- 
demned, under  pain  of  behaving  like  a  cad,  to 
be  that  same  charming  and  intellectual  com- 
panion who  delighted  me  last  night." 

"At  least,"  cried  Somerset,  "I  can  and  do 
order  you  to  leave  this  house." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  plotter,  "but  there  I  fail 
to  follow  you.  You  may,  if  you  choose,  enact 
the  part  of  Judas  ;  but  if,  as  I  suppose,  you  re- 
coil from  that  extremity  of  meanness,  I  am,  on 
my  side,  far  too  intelligent  to  leave  these  lodg- 
ings, in  which  I  please  myself  exceedingly,  and 
from  which  you  lack  the  power  to  drive  me. 


TH  E  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  205 

No,  no,  clear  sir  ;  here  I  am,  and  here  I  propose 
to  stay.1' 

"I  repeat  |J  cried  Somerset,  beside  himself 
with  a  sense-  of  his  own  weakness,  "I  repeat 
that  I  give  yon  warning.  I  am  master  of  this 
house  ;  and  I  emphatically  give  you  warning. ' ' 

' '  A  week' s  warning  % ' '  said  the  imperturbable 
conspirator.  ' '  Very  well ;  we  will  talk  of  it  a 
week  from  now.  That  is  arranged  ;  and  in  the 
meanwhile,  I  observe  my  breakfast  growing 
cold.  Do,  dear  Mr.  Somerset,  since  you  iind 
yourself  condemned,  for  a  week  at  least,  to  the 
society  of  a  very  interesting  character,  display 
some  of  that  open  favor,  some  of  that  interest 
in  life' s  obscurer  sides,  wdiich  stamp  the  char- 
acter of  the  true  artist.  Hang  me,  if  you  will, 
to-morrow  ;  but  to-day  show  yourself  divested 
of  the  scruples  of  the  burgess,  and  sit  down 
pleasantly  to  share  my  meal." 

"  Man  !  "  cried  Somerset,  "do  you  under- 
stand my  sentiments  \ ' ' 

"Certainly,"  replied  Zero  ;  "and  I  respect 
them  !  Would  you  be  outdone  in  such  a  con- 
test ?  will  you  alone  be  partial  \  and  in  this 
nineteenth  century,  can  not  two  gentlemen  of 
education  agree  to  differ  on  a  point  of  politics  \ 
Come,  sir  ;  all  your  hard  words  have  left  me 
smiling  ;  judge  then,  which  of  us  is  the  philos- 
opher ! ' ' 

Somerset  was  a  young  man  of  a  very  tolerant 


206  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

disposition  and  by  nature  easily  amenable  to 
sophistry.  He  threw  up  his  hands  with  a  ges- 
ture of  despair,  and  took  the  seat  to  which  the 
conspirator  invited  him.  The  meal  was  excel- 
lent ;  the  host  not  only  affable,  but  primed  with 
curious  information.  He  seemed,  indeed,  like 
one  who  had  too  long  endured  the  torture  of 
silence,  to  exult  in  the  most  wholesale  disclos- 
ures. The  interest  of  what  he  had  to  tell,  was 
great ;  his  character,  besides,  developed  step  by 
step  ;  and  Somerset,  as  the  time  fled,  not  only 
outgrew  some  of  the  discomfort  of  his  false 
position,  but  began  to  regard  the  conspirator 
with  a  familiarity  that  verged  upon  contempt. 
In  any  circumstances,  he  had  a  singular  inability 
to  leave  the  society  in  which  he  found  himself  ; 
company,  even  if  distasteful,  held  him  captive 
like  a  limed  sparrow ;  and  on  this  occasion,  he 
suffered  hour  to  f ollow  hour,  was  easily  per- 
suaded to  sit  down  once  more  to  table,  and  did 
not  even  attempt  to  withdraw,  till,  on  the 
approach  of  evening,  Zero,  with  many  apol- 
ogies, dismissed  his  guest.  His  fellow- conspir- 
ators, the  dynamiter  handsomely  explained,  as 
they  were  unacquainted  with  the  sterling  qual- 
ities of  the  young  man,  would  be  alarmed  at 
the  sight  of  a  strange  face. 

As  soon  as  he  was  alone,  Somerset  fell  back 
upon  the  humor  of  the  morning.  He  raged  at 
the  thought  of  his  facility  ;  he  paced  the  din- 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  207 

ing-room,  forming  the  sternest  resolutions  for 
the  future  ;  he  wrung  the  hand  which  had  been 
dishonored  by  the  touch  of  an  assassin  ;  and 
among  all  these  whirling  thoughts,  there 
flashed  in,  from  time  to  time,  and  ever  with  a 
chill  of  fear,  the  thought  of  the  confounded 
ingredients  with  which  the  house  was  stored. 
A  powder-magazine  seemed  a  secure  smoking- 
room  alongside  of  the  Superfluous  Mansion. 

He  sought  refuge  in  flight,  in  locomotion,  in 
the  flowing  bowl.  As  long  as  the  bars  were 
open,  he  traveled  from  one  to  another,  seeking 
light,  safety  and  the  companionship  of  human 
faces  ;  when  these  resources  failed  him,  he  fell 
back  on  the  belated  baked-potato  man  ;  and  at 
length,  still  pacing  the  streets,  he  was  goaded 
to  fraternize  with  the  police.  Alas,  with  what 
a  sense  of  guilt  he  conversed  with  these  guard- 
ians of  the  law  ;  how  gladly  had  he  wept  upon 
their  ample  bosoms  ;  and  how  the  secret  flut- 
tered to  his  lips  and  was  still  denied  an  exit ! 
Fatigue  began  at  last  to  triumph  over  remorse; 
and  about  the  hour  of  the  first  milkman,  he 
returned  to  the  door  of  the  mansion  ;  looked 
at  it  with  a  horrid  expectation,  as  though  it 
should  have  burst  that  instant  into  flames  ; 
drew  out  his  key,  and  when  his  foot  already 
rested  on  the  steps,  once  more  lost  heart  and 
fled  for  repose  to  the  grisly  shelter  of  a  coffee- 
shop. 


2  o  8  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

It  was  on  the  stroke  of  noon  when  he  awoke. 
Dismally  searching  in  his  pockets,  he  found 
himself  reduced  to  half-a-crown  ;  and  when  he 
had  paid  the  price  of  his  distasteful  couch,  saw 
himself  obliged  to  return  to  the  Superfluous 
Mansion.  He  sneaked  into  the  hall,  and  stole 
on  tiptoe  to  the  cupboard  where  he  kept  his 
money.  Yet  half  a  minute,  he  told  himself, 
and  he  would  be  free  for  days  from  his  obsed- 
ing  lodger,  and  might  decide  at  leisure  on  the 
course  he  should  pursue.  But  fate  had  other- 
wise designed  ;  there  came  a  tap  at  the  door 
and  Zero  entered. 

"Have  I  caught  you  ?"  he  cried,  with  inno- 
cent gayety.  "Dear  fellow,  I  was  growing 
quite  impatient. ' '  And  on  the  speaker1  s  some- 
what stolid  face,  there  came  a  glow  of  genuine 
affection.  "lam  so  long  unused  to  have  a 
friend,"  he  continued,  "that  I  begin  to  be 
afraid  I  may  prove  jealous."  And  he  wrung 
the  hand  of  his  landlord. 

Somerset  was,  of  all  men,  least  fit  to  deal 
with  such  a  greeting.  To  reject  these  kind 
advances  was  beyond  his  strength.  That  he 
could  not  return  cordiality  for  cordiality,  was 
already  almost  more  than  he  could  carry. 
That  inequality  between  kind  sentiments, 
which,  to  generous  characters,  will  always 
seem  to  be  a  sort  of  guilt,  oppressed  him  to  the 
ground ;  and  he  stammered  vague  and  lying 
words. 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  209 

"That  is  all  right,"  cried  Zero — "  that  is  as 
it  should  be — say  no  more !  I  had  a  vague 
alarm ;  I  feared  you  had  deserted  me ;  but  I 
now  own  that  fear  to  have  been  unworthy,  and 
apologize.  To  doubt  of  your  forgiveness  were 
to  repeat  my  sin.  Come,  then  ;  dinner  waits  ; 
join  me  again  and  tell  me  your  adventures  of 
the  night." 

Kindness  still  sealed  the  lips  of  Somerset ; 
and  he  suffered  himself  once  more  to  be  set 
down  to  table  with  his  innocent  and  criminal 
acquaintance.  Once  more,  the  plotter  plunged 
up  to  the  neck  in  damaging  disclosures  :  now 
it  would  be  the  name  and  biography  of  an  in- 
dividual, now  the  address  of  some  important 
center,  that  rose,  as  if  by  accident,  upon  his 
lips  ;  and  each  word  was  like  another  turn  of 
the  thumbscrew  to  his  unhappy  guest.  Finally, 
the  course  of  Zero' s  bland  monologue  led  him 
to  the  young  lady  of  two  days  ago  :  that 
young  lady,  who  had  flashed  on  Somerset  for 
so  brief  a  while  but  with  so  conquering  a  charm  • 
and  whose  engaging  grace,  communicative  eyes, 
and  admirable  conduct  of  the  sweeping  skirt, 
remained  imprinted  on  his  memory. 

"  You  saw  her  ?"  said  Zero.  u  Beautiful,  is 
she  not  ?  She,  too,  is  one  of  ours  :  a  true  en- 
thusiast :  nervous,  perhaps,  in  presence  of  the 
chemicals ;  but  in  matters  of  intrigue,  the  very 
soul  of  skill  and  daring.  Lake,  Fonblanque,  de 


2 1 o  THE  S UPERFL UOUS  MA NSION. 

Marly,  Y  aide  via,  such  are  some  of  the  names  that 
she  employs  ;  her  true  name — but  there,  perhaps, 
I  go  too  far.  Suffice  it,  that  it  is  to  her  I  owe 
my  present  lodging  and,  dear  Somerset,  the 
pleasure  of  your  acquaintance.  It  appears  she 
knew  the  house.  You  see,  dear  fellow,  I  make 
no  concealment :  all  that  you  can  care  to  hear, 
I  tell  you  openly." 

"For  God's  sake,'1  cried  the  wretched  Som- 
erset, "hold  your  tongue  !  You  can  not  imagine 
how  you  torture  me  !  " 

A  shade  of  serious  discomposure  crossed  the 
open  countenance  of  Zero. 

"There  are  times,"  he  said,  "when  I  begin 
to  fancy  that  you  do  not  like  me.  Why,  why, 
dear  Somerset,  this  lack  of  cordiality  \  I  am 
depressed  ;  the  touchstone  of  my  life  draws 
near;  and  if  I  fail" — he  gloomily  nodded — 
"from  all  the  height  of  my  ambitious  schemes, 
I  fall,  dear  boy,  into  contempt.  These  are  grave 
thoughts,  and  you  may  judge  my  need  of  your 
delightful  company.  Innocent  prattler,  you 
relieve  the  weight  of  my  concerns.  And  yet 
.  .  .  and  yet  ..."  The  speaker  pushed  away 
his  plate,  and  rose  from  table.  "  Follow  me," 
said  he,  "  follow  me.  My  mood  is  on  ;  I  must 
have  air,  I  must  behold  the  plain  of  battle." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  hurriedly  to  the  top 
flat  of  the  mansion,  and  thence,  by  ladder  and 
trap,  to  a  certain  leaded  platform,  sheltered  at 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  2 1 1 

one  end  by  a  great  stalk  of  chimneys  and  occu- 
pying the  actual  summit  of  the  roof.  On  both 
sides,  it  bordered,  without  parapet  or  rail,  on 
the  incline  of  slates  ;  and,  northward  above  all, 
commanded  an  extensive  view  of  housetor)s, 
and  rising  through  the  smoke,  the  distant  spires 
of  churches. 

"  Here,"  cried  Zero,  "  you  behold  this  field 
of  city,  rich,  crowded,  laughing  with  the  spoil 
of  continents  ;  but  soon,  how  soon,  to  be  laid 
low  !  Some  day,  some  night,  from  this  coign 
of  vantage,  you  shall  perhaps  be  startled  by 
the  detonation  of  the  judgment  gun — not. sharp 
and  empty  like  the  crack  of  cannon,  but  deep- 
mouthed  and  unctuously  solemn.  Instantly 
thereafter,  you  shall  behold  the  flames  break 
forth.  Ay,"  he  cried,  stretching  forth  his  hand, 
"  ay,  that  will  be  a  day  of  retribution.  Then 
shall  the  pallid  constable  flee  side  by  side  with 
the  detected  thief.  Blaze  !  "  he  cried,  "blaze, 
derided  city !  Fall,  flatulent  monarchy,  fall 
like  Dagon! " 

With  these  words  his  foot  slipped  upon  the 
lead  ;  and  but  for  Somerset1  s  quickness,  he  had 
been  instantly  precipitated  into  space.  Pale  as 
a  sheet,  and  limp  as  a  pocket-handkerchief,  he 
was  dragged  from  the  edge  of  downfall  by  one 
arm  ;  helped,  or  rather  carried,  down  the  lad- 
der ;  and  deposited  in  safety  on  the  attic  land- 
ing.    Here  he  began  to  come  to  himself,  wiped 


2 1 2  THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

his  brow,  and  at  length,  seizing  Somerset's 
hand  in  both  of  his,  began  to  utter  his  acknowl- 
edgments. 

' '  This  seals  it, ' '  said  he.  ' '  Ours  is  a  life  and 
death  connection.  You  have  plucked  me  from 
the  jaws  of  death  ;  and  if  I  were  before  attracted 
by  your  character,  judge  now  of  the  ardor  of 
my  gratitude  and  love  %  But  I  perceive  I  am 
still  greatly  shaken.  Lend  me,  I  beseech  you, 
lend  me  your  arm  as  far  as  my  apartment." 

A  dram  of  spirits  restored  the  plotter  to 
something  of  his  customary  self-possession ; 
and  he  was  standing,  glass  in  hand  and  genially 
convalescent,  when  his  eye  was  attracted  by 
the  dejection  of  the  unfortunate  young  man. 

"Good  heavens,  dear  Somerset,"  he  cried, 
"  what  ails  you  ?  Let  me  offer  you  a  touch  of 
spirits." 

But  Somerset  had  fallen  below  the  reach  of 
this  material  comfort. 

" Let  me  be,"  he  said,  "lam  lost ;  yon  have 
caught  me  in  the  toils.  Up  to  this  moment  I 
have  lived  all  my  life  in  the  most  reckless 
manner,  and  done  exactly  what  I  pleased,  with 
the  most  perfect  innocence.  And  now— what 
am  I  %  Are  you  so  blind  and  wooden  that  you 
do  not  see  the  loathing  you  inspire  me  with  ? 
Is  it  possible  you  can  suppose  me  willing  to 
continue  to  exist  upon  such  terms  ?  To  think," 
he  cried,   "that  a  young  man,  guilty  of  no 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  2  1 3 

fault  on  earth  but  amiability,  should  find  him- 
self involved  in  such  a  damned  imbroglio  !  " 
And  placing  his  knuckles  in  his  eyes,  Somer- 
set rolled  upon  the  sofa. 

"My  God,"  said  Zero,  "is  this  possible? 
And  I  so  filled  with  tenderness  and  interest ! 
Can  it  be,  clear  Somerset,  that  you  are  under 
the  entire  of  these  outworn  scruples  \  or  that 
you  judge  a  patriot  by  the  morality  of  the 
religious  tract  %  I  thought  you  were  a  good 
agnostic." 

"Mr.  Jones,"  said  Somerset,  "it  is  in  vain 
to  argue.  I  boast  myself  a  total  disbeliever 
not  only  in  revealed  religion,  but  in  the  data, 
method  and  conclusions  of  the  whole  of  ethics. 
Well !  what  matters  it  ?  what  signifies  a  form 
of  words  ?  I  regard  you  as  a  reptile,  whom  I 
would  rejoice,  whom  I  long,  to  stamp  under 
my  heel.  You  would  blow  up  others  1  Well 
then,  understand :  I  want,  with  every  circum- 
stance of  infamy  and  agony,  to  blow  up  you  ! ' ' 

"  Somerset,  Somerset ! "  said  Zero,  turning 
very  pale,  "  this  is  wrong  ;  this  is  very  wrong. 
You  pain,  you  wound  me,  Somerset." 

"Give  me  a  match !  "  cried  Somerset  wildly. 
"  Let  me  set  fire  to  this  incomparable  monster ! 
Let  me  perish  with  him  in  his  fall !  " 

"For  God's  sake,"  cried  Zero,  clutching 
hold  of  the  young  man,  "for  God's  sake  com- 
mand yourself !     We  stand  upon  the  brink  ; 


2  1 4  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSIOX. 

death  yawns  around  us  ;  a  man— a  stranger  in 
this  foreign  land— one  whom  you  have  called 
your  friend — ' ' 

"Silence!"  cried  Somerset,  "you  are  no 
friend,  no  friend  of  mine.  I  look  on  you  with 
loathing,  like  a  toad  :  my  flesh  creeps  with 
physical  repulsion  ;  my  soul  revolts  against 
the  sight  of  you." 

Zero  burst  into  tears.  "  Alas  !  "  he  sobbed, 
"this  snaps  the  last  link  that  bound  me  to 
humanity.  My  friend  disowns — he  insults  me. 
I  am  indeed  accursed." 

Somerset  stood  for  an  instant  staggered  by 
this  sudden  change  of  front.  The  next  moment, 
with  a  despairing  gesture,  he  lied  from  the 
room  and  from  the  house.  The  first  dash  of 
his  escape  carried  him  hard  upon  halfway  to 
the  next  police-office  ;  but  presently  he  began 
to  droop  ;  and  before  he  reached  the  house  of 
lawful  intervention,  he  fell  once  more  among 
doubtful  counsels.  Was  he  an  agnostic  \  had 
he  a  right  to  act  ?  Away  with  such  nonsense, 
and  let  Zero  perish  !  ran  his  thoughts.  And 
then  again :  had  he  not  promised,  had  he  not 
shaken  hands  and  broken  bread?  and  that 
with  open  eyes  %  and  if  so  how  could  he  take 
action,  and  not  forfeit  honor  %  But  honor ! 
what  was  honor  %  A  figment,  which,  in  the  hot 
pursuit  of  crime  he  ought  to  dash  aside.  Ay, 
but    crime  %    A  figment,    too,    which    his  en- 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  2 1 5 

franchisee!,  intellect  discarded.  All  day  he 
wandered  in  the  parks,  a  prey  to  whirling 
thoughts  ;  all  night,  patroled  the  city  ;  and  at 
the  peep  of  day  he  sat  down  by  the  wayside  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Peckham  and  bitterly 
wept.  His  gods  had  fallen.  He  who  had 
chosen  the  broad,  day  lighted,  unencumbered 
paths  of  universal  skepticism,  found  himself 
still  the  bondslave  of  honor.  He  who  had  ac- 
cepted life  from  a  point  of  view  as  lofty  as  the 
predatory  eagle's,  though  with  no  design  to 
prey  ;  he  who  had  clearly  recognized  the  com- 
mon moral  basis  of  war,  of  commercial  compe- 
tition, and  of  crime  ;  he  who  was  prepared  to 
help  the  escaping  murderer  or  to  embrace  the 
impenitent  thief,  found,  to  the  overthrow  of 
all  his  logic,  that  he  objected  to  the  use  of 
dynamite.  The  dawn  crept  among  the  sleeping 
villas  and  over  the  smokeless  fields  of  city  ; 
and  still  the  unfortunate  skeptic  sobbed  over 
his  fall  from  consistency. 

At  length,  he  rose .  and  took  the  rising  sun 
to  witness.  "There  is  no  question  as  to  fact," 
he  cried  ;  "right  and  wrong  are  but  figments 
and  the  shadow  of  a  word ;  but  for  all  that, 
there  are  certain  things  that  I  can  not  do,  and 
there  are  certain  others  that  I  will  not  stand." 
Thereupon  he  decided  to  return,  to  make  one 
last  effort  of  persuasion,  and,  if  he  could  not 
prevail  on  Zero  to  desist  from  his  infernal  trade, 


2 1 6  THE  BRO  WN  BOX. 

throw  delicacy  to  the  winds,  give  the  plotter  an 
hour's  start,  and  denounce  him  to  the  police. 
Fast  as  he  went,  being  winged  by  this  resolu- 
tion, it  was  already  well  on  in  the  morning, 
when  he  came  in  sight  of  the  Superfluous  Man- 
sion. Tripping  down  the  steps,  was  the  young- 
lady  of  the  various  aliases  ;  and  he  was  sur- 
prised to  see  upon  her  countenance  the  marks 
of  anger  and  concern. 

"  Madam,"  he  began,  yielding  to  impulse  and 
with  no  clear  knowledge  of  what  he  was  to 
add. 

But  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  seemed  to 
experience  a  shock  of  fear  or  horror  ;  started 
back  ;  lowered  her  veil  with  a  sudden  move- 
ment ;  and  fled,  without  turning,  from  the 
square. . 

Here  then,  we  step  aside  a  moment  from  fol- 
lowing the  fortunes  of  Somerset,  and  proceed 
to  relate  the  strange  and  romantic  episode  of 
The  Broavn  Box. 


DESBORO  UGH 8  AD  VENTURE  : 
THE  BRO  WN  BOX. 

MR.  HARRY  DESBOROUGH  lodged  in  the 
fine  and  grave  old  quarter  of  Blooms- 
bury,  roared  about  on  every  side  by  the  high 
tides  of  London,  but  itself  rejoicing  in  roman- 


THE  BRO  WN  BOX.  2 1 7 

tic  silences  and  city  peace.  It  was  in  Queen 
Square  that  lie  had  pitched  his  tent,  next  door 
to  the  Children's  Hospital,  on  your  left  hand 
as  you  go  north :  Queen  Square,  sacred  to 
humane  and  liberal  arts,  whence  homes  were 
made  beautiful,  where  the  poor  were  taught, 
where  the  sparrows  were  plentiful  and  loud, 
and  where  groups  of  patient  little  ones  would 
hover  all  day  long  before  the  hospital,  if  by 
chance  they  might  kiss  their  hand  or  speak  a 
word  to  their  sick  brother  at  the  window.  Des- 
borough1  s  room  was  on  the  first  floor  and  fronted 
to  the  square  ;  but  he  enjoyed  besides,  a  right 
by  which  he  often  profited,  to  sit  and  smoke 
upon  a  terrace  at  the  back,  which  looked  down 
upon  a  fine  forest  of  back  gardens,  and  was 
in  turn  commanded  by  the  windows  of  an 
empty  room. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  warm  day,  Desborough 
sauntered  forth  upon  this  terrace,  somewhat 
out  of  hope  and  heart,  for  he  had  been  now 
some  weeks  on  the  vain  quest  of  situations,  and 
prepared  for  melancholy  and  tobacco.  Here, 
at  least,  he  told  himself  that  he  would  be  alone; 
for,  like  most  youths,  who  are  neither  rich,  nor 
witty,  nor  successful,  he  rather  shunned  than 
courted  the  society  of  other  men.  Even  as  he 
expressed  the  thought  his  eye  alighted  on  the 
window  of  the  room  that  looked  upon  the  terrace; 
and  to  his  surprise  and  annoyance,  he  beheld  it 


2 1 8  THE  BRO  WN  B OX. 

curtained  with  a  silken  hanging.  It  was  like  his 
luck,  he  thought ;  his  privacy  was  gone,  he 
could  no  longer  brood  and  sigh  unwatched,  he 
could  no  longer  suffer  his  discouragement  to 
find  a  vent  in  words  or  soothe  himself  with  sen- 
timental whistling  ;  and  in  the  irritation  of  the 
moment  he  struck  his  pipe  upon  the  rail  with 
unnecessary  force.  It  was  an  old,  sweet,  sea- 
soned brier-root,  glossy  and  dark  with  long 
employment  and  justly  dear  to  his  fancy. 
What,  then,  was  his  chagrin,  when  the  head 
snapped  from  the  stem,  leaped  airily  in  space, 
and  fell  and  disappeared  among  the  lilacs  of 
the  garden  % 

He  threw  himself  savagely  into  the  garden 
chair,  pulled  out  the  story-paper  which  he  had 
brought  with  him  to  read,  tore  off  a  fragment 
of  the  last  sheet,  which  contains  only  the  an- 
swers to  correspondents,  and  set  himself  to  roll 
a  cigarette.  He  was  no  master  of  the  art ;  again 
and  again,  the  paper  broke  between  his  fingers 
and  the  tobacco  showered  upon  the  ground  ; 
and  he  was  already  on  the  point  of  angry  res- 
ignation, when  the  window  swung  slowly  in- 
ward, the  silken  curtain  was  thrust  aside,  and 
a  lady,  somewhat  strangely  attired,  stepped 
forth  upon  the  terrace. 

"  Sehorito,"  said  she,  and  there  was  a  rich 
thrill  in  her  voice,  like  an  organ  note,  "Seho- 
rito, yon  are  in  difficulties.  Suffer  me  to  come 
to  your  assistance/' 


THE  BRO  WN  BOX. 


219 


With  the  words,  she  took  the  paper  and  to- 
bacco from  his  unresisting  hands  ;  and  with  a 
facility  that,  in  Desborough's  eyes,  seemed 
magical,  rolled  and  presented  him  a  cigarette. 
He  took  it,  still  without  a  word  ;  staring  with 
all  his  eyes  upon  that  apparition.  Her  face 
was  warm  and  rich  in  color ;  in  shape,  it  was 
the  kitten  face,  that  piquant  triangle,  so  mys- 
terious, so  pleasingly  attractive,  so  rare  in  our 
more  northern  climates  ;  her  eyes  were  large, 
starry  and  visited  by  changing  lights  ;  her  hair 
was  partly  covered  by  lace  mantilla,  through 
which  her  arms,  bare  to  the  shoulder,  gleamed 
white;  her  figure,  full  and  soft  in  all  the 
womanly  contours,  was  yet  alive  and  active,  light 
with  excess  of  life,  and  slender  by  grace  of  some 
divine  proportion. 

"  You  do  not  like  my  cigarrito,  Sefior  ?  "  she 
asked.  "Yet  it  is  better  made  than  yours." 
At  that  she  laughed,  and  her  laughter  trilled  in 
his  ear  like  music  ;  but  the  next  moment  her 
face  fell.  "  I  see,"  she  cried.  "It is  my  man- 
ner that  repels  you.  I  am  too  constrained,  too 
cold.  I  am  not,"  she  added,  with  a  more  en- 
gaging air,  "lam  not  the  simple  English  maid- 
en I  appear." 

"Oh!"  murmured  Harry,  filled  with  inex- 
pressible thoughts. 

"In  my  own  dear  land,"  she  pursued, 
' '  things  are  differently  ordered.     There,  I  must 


2  20  THE  BRO  WN  BOX. 

own,  a  girl  is  bound  by  many  and  rigorous  re- 
strictions ;  little  is  permitted  her ;  she  learns 
to  be  distant,  she  learns  to  appear  forbidding. 
But  here,  in  free  England — O  glorious  liberty," 
she  cried,  and  threw  up  her  arms  with  a  ges- 
ture of  inimitable  grace — "here  there  are  no 
fetters  ;  here  the  woman  may  dare  to  be  herself 
entirely,  and  the  men,  the  chivalrous  men — is 
it  not  written  on  the  very  shield  of  your  nation, 
Ttoni  soitf  Ah,  it  is  hard  for  me  to  learn, 
hard  for  me  to  dare  to  be  myself.  You  must 
not  judge  me  yet  awhile  ;  I  shall  end  by  con- 
quering this  stiffness,  I  shall  end  by  growing 
English.     Do  I  speak  the  language  well  % " 

"Perfectly — oh,  perfectly!"  said  Harry, 
with  a  fervency  of  conviction  worthy  of  a 
graver  subject. 

"Ah,  then,"  she  said,  "I  shall  soon  learn; 
English  blood  ran  in  my  father's  veins  ;  and  I 
have  had  the  advantage  of  some  training  in 
your  expressive  tongue.  If  I  speak  already 
without  accent,  with  my  thorough  English  ap- 
pearance, there  is  nothing  left  to  change  except 
my  manners." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Desborough.  "Oh  pray  not ! 
I — madam ' ' 

"  I  am,"  interrupted  the  lady,  "the  Seiiorita 
Teresa  Valdevia.  The  evening  air  grows  chill. 
Adios,  Sehorito."  And  before  Harry  could 
stammer  out  a  word,  she  had  disappeared  into 
her  room. 


THE  BROWN  B  OX.  2  2 1 

ffe  stood  transfixed,  the  cigarette  still  un- 
limited in  his  hand.  His  thoughts  had  soared 
above  tobacco,  and  still  recalled  and  beautified 
the  image  of  his  new  acquaintance.  Her  voice 
re-echoed  in  his  memory  ;  her  eyes,  of  which 
he  could  not  tell  the  color,  haunted  his  soul. 
The  clouds  had  risen  at  her  coming,  and 
he  beheld  a  new-created  world.  What  she 
was,  he  could  not  fancy,  but  he  adored  her. 
Her  age,  he  durst  not  estimate  ;  fearing  to  find 
her  older  than  himself,  and  thinking  sacrilege 
to  couple  that  fair  favor  with  the  thought  of 
mortal  changes.  As  for  her  character,  beauty 
to  the  young  is  always  good.  So  the  poor  lad 
lingered  late  upon  the  terrace,  stealing  timid 
glances  at  the  curtained  window,  sighing  to  the 
gold  laburnums,  rapt  into  the  country  of  ro- 
mance ;  and  when  at  length  he  entered  and  sat 
down  to  dine,  on  cold  boiled  mutton  and  a  pint 
of  ale,  he  feasted  on  the  food  of  gods. 

Next  clay  when  he  returned  to  the  terrace, 
the  window  was  a  little  ajar  and  he  enjoyed  a 
view  of  the  lady's  shoulder,  as  she  sat  patiently 
sewing  and  all  unconscious  of  his  presence. 
On  the  next,  he  had  scarce  appeared  when  the 
window  opened,  and  the  Sehorita  tripped  forth 
into  the  sunlight,  in  a  morning  disorder,  deli- 
cately neat,  and  yet  somehow  foreign,  tropical 
and  strange.     In  one  hand  she  held  a  packet. 

"  Will  you  try,"    she  said,    "some  of  my 


22  2  THE  BRO  WN  BOX. 

father's  tobacco — from  dear  Cuba?  There,  as 
I  suppose  you  know,  all  smoke,  ladies  as  well 
as  gentlemen.  So  you  need  not  fear  to  annoy 
me.  The  fragrance  will  remind  me  of  home. 
My  home,  Seiior,  was  by  the  sea."  And  as  she 
uttered  these  few  words,  Desborough,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  realized  the  poetry  of  the 
great  deep.  "  Awake  or  asleep,  I  dream  of  it ; 
dear  home,  dear  Cuba  ! ' ' 

"But  some  day,"  said  Desborough,  with  an 
inward  pang,  "some  day  you  will  return 8 " 

' '  Never  ! ' '  she  cried  ;  ' '  ah,  never,  in  Heav- 
en' s  name ! ' ' 

"  Are  you  then  resident  for  life  in  England?" 
he  inquired,  with  a  strange  lightening  of 
spirit  % 

"  You  ask  too  much,  for  you  ask  more  than 
I  know,"  she  answered,  sadly;  and  then, 
resuming  her  gayety  of  manner  :  ' '  But  you 
have  not  tried  my  Cuban  tobacco,"  she  said. 

"Senorita,"  said  he,  shyly  abashed  by  some 
shadow  of  coquetry  in  her  manner,  "  whatever 
comes  to  me — you — I  mean,"  he  concluded, 
deeply  flushing,  "that  I  have  no  doubt  the 
tobacco  is  delightful." 

"Ah,  Sehor,"  she  said,  with  almost  mourn- 
ful gravity,  ' '  you  seemed  so  simple  and  good, 
and  already  you  are  trying  to  pay  compliments 
— and  besides,"  she  added,  brightening,  with  a 
quick,  upward  glance,  into  a  smile,  "you  do 


THE  BRO IV N  BOX.  223 

it,  oh,  so  badly  !  English  gentlemen,  I  used  to 
hear,  conld  be  fast  friends,  respectful,  honest 
friends  ;  conld  be  companions,  comforters,  if 
the  need  arose,  or  champions,  and  yet  never 
encroach.  Do  not  seek  to  please  me  by  copy- 
ing the  graces  of  my  countrymen.  Be  your- 
self ;  the  frank,  kindly,  honest  English  gen- 
tleman that  I  have  heard  of  since  my  childhood 
and  still  long  to  meet." 

Harry,  much  bewildered,  and  far  from  clear 
as  to  the  manners  of  the  Cuban  gentleman, 
strenuously  disclaimed  the  thought  of  plagiar- 
ism. 

' '  Your  national  seriousness  of  bearing  best 
becomes  you,  Sehor,"  said  the  lady.  "  See  !  " 
marking  a  line  with  her  dainty,  slippered  foot, 
"  thus  far  it  shall  be  common  ground  ;  there, 
at  my  window-sill,  begins  the  scientific  frontier. 
If  you  choose,  you  may  drive  me  to  my  forts  ; 
but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  to  be  real 
English  friends,  I  may  join  you  here  when  I 
am  not  too  sad  ;  or,  when  I  am  yet  more  gra- 
ciously inclined,  you  may  draw  your  chair 
beside  the  window  and  teach  me  English  cus- 
toms, while  I  work.  You  will  find  me  an  apt 
scholar,  for  my  heart  is  in  the  task."  She  laid 
her  hand  lightly  upon  Harry' s  arm,  and  looked 
into  his  eyes.  "  Do  you  know,"  said  she,  "  I 
am  emboldened  to  believe  that  I  have  already 
caught  something  of  your  English  aplomb  ? 


224  THE  BROWN  BOX. 

Do  you  not  perceive  a  change,  SeTior  ?  Slight, 
perhaps,  but  still  a  change  %  Is  my  deportment 
not  more  open,  more  free,  more  like  that  of  the 
dear  'British  Miss,'  than  when  you  saw  me 
first?"  She  gave  a  radiant  smile;  withdrew 
her  hand  from  Harry's  arm  ;  and  before  the 
young  man  could  formulate  in  words  the  elo- 
quent emotions  that  ran  riot  through  his  brain 
— with  an  "Adios,  Sehor :  good-night,  my 
English  friend,"  she  vanished  from  his  sight 
behind  the  curtain. 

The  next  day,  Harry  consumed  an  ounce  of 
tobacco  in  vain  upon  the  neutral  terrace  ;  neither 
sight  nor  sound  rewarded  him,  and  the  dinner- 
hour  summoned  him  at  length  from  the  scene 
of  disappointment.  On  the  next,  it  rained  ; 
but  nothing,  neither  business  nor  weather, 
neither  prospective  poverty  nor  present  hard- 
ship, could  now  divert  the  young  man  from  the 
service  of  his  lady ;  and  wrapped  in  a  long  ulster, 
with  the  collar  raised,  he  took  his  stand  against 
the  balustrade,  awaiting  fortune,  the  picture  of 
damp  and  discomfort  to  the  eye,  but  glowing 
inwardly  with  tender  and  delightful  ardors. 
Presently  the  window  opened  ;  and  the  fair 
Cuban,  with  a  smile  imperfectly  dissembled, 
appeared  upon  the  sill. 

"Come  here,"  she  said,  "heie,  beside  my 
window.  The  small  veranda  gives  a  belt  of 
shelter."  And  she  graciously  handed  him  a 
folding-chair. 


THE  BRO IVN  BOX.  225 

As  lie  sat  down,  visibly  aglow  with  shyness 
and  delight,  a  certain  bnlkiness  in  his  pocket 
reminded  him  that  he  was  not  come  empty- 
handed. 

"I  have  taken  the  liberty,"  said  he,  "of 
bringing  yon  a  little  book.  I  thought  of  you, 
when  I  observed  it  on  the  stall,  because  I  saw 
it  was  in  Spanish.  The  man  assured  me  it  was 
by  one  of  the  best  authors,  and  quite  proper." 
As  he  spoke,  he  placed  the  little  volume  in  her 
hand.  Her  eyes  fell  as  she  turned  the  pages, 
and  a  flush  rose  and  died  again  upon  her  cheeks, 
as  deep  as  it  was  fleeting.  "  You  are  angry," 
he  cried  in  agony.     "  I  have  presumed !  " 

"No,  Sehor,  it  is  not  that,"  returned  the 
lady.  "I"— and  a  flood  of  color  once  more 
mounted  to  her  brow— "I  am  confused  and 
ashamed  because  I  have  deceived  you.  Span- 
ish," she  began,  and  paused— "  Spanish  is  of 
course  my  native  tongue,"  she  resumed,  as 
though  suddenly  taking  courage;  "and  this 
should  certainly  put  the  highest  value  on  your 
thoughtful  present ;  but  alas,  sir,  of  what  use 
is  it  to  me  %  And  how  shall  I  confess  to  you 
the  truth— the  humiliating  truth— that  I  can 
not  read  \ ' ' 

As  Harry's  eyes  met  hers  in  undisguised 
amazement,  the  fair  Cuban  seemed  to  shrink 
before  his  gaze.  "Read?"  repeated  Harry, 
"You?" 


226  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

She  pushed  the  window  still  more  widely 
open  with  a  large  and  noble  gesture.  "  Enter, 
Sehor,"  said  she.  "The  time  has  come  to 
which  I  have  long  looked  forward,  not  without 
alarm  ;  when  I  must  either  fear  to  lose  your 
friendship,  or  tell  you  without  disguise  the 
story  of  my  life." 

It  was  with  a  sentiment  bordering  on  devo- 
tion, that  Harry  passed  the  window.  A  semi- 
barbarous  delight  in  form  and  color  had  pre- 
sided over  the  studied  disorder  of  the  room  in 
which  he  found  himself.  It  was  filled  with 
dainty  stuffs,  furs  and  rugs  and  scarves  of  bril- 
liant hues,  and  set  with  elegant  and  curious 
trifles — fans  on  the  mantel-shelf,  an  antique 
lamp  upon  a  bracket,  and  on  the  table  a  silver- 
mounted  bowl  of  cocoa-nut  about  half  full  of 
unset  jewels.  The  fair  Cuban,  herself  a  gem  of 
color  and  the  fit  masterpiece  for  that  rich  frame, 
motioned  Harry  to  a  seat,  and  sinking  herself 
into  another,  thus  began  her  history. 


STORY  OF  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

I  AM  not  what  I  seem.  My  father  drew  his 
descent,  on  the  one  hand,  from  grandees  of 
Spain,  and  on  the  other,  through  the  maternal 
line,  from  the  patriot  Bruce.  My  mother,  too, 
was  the  descendant  of  a  line  of  kings  ;  but,  alas  ! 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  227 

these  kings  were  African.     She  was  fair  as  the 
day  :    fairer  than  I,  for  I  inherited  a  darker 
strain  of  blood  from  the  veins  of  my  European 
father ;     her  mind  was    noble,    her    manners 
queenly  and  accomplished  ;     and   seeing  her 
more  than  the  equal  of  her  neighbors  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  most  considerate  affection  and 
respect,  I  grew  up  to  adore  her,  and  when  the 
time  came,  received  her  last  sigh  upon  my  lips, 
still  ignorant  that  she  was  a  slave  and  alas ! 
my  father1  s  mistress.     Her  death,  which  befell 
me  in  my  sixteenth  year,  was  the  first  sorrow  I 
had  known  :    it  left  our  home  bereaved  of  its 
attractions,  cast  a  shade  of  melancholy  on  my 
youth,  and  wrought  in  my  father  a  tragic  and 
durable  change.     Months  went  by  ;    with  the 
elasticity  of  my  years,  I  regained  some  of  the 
simple  mirth  that  had  before  distinguished  me ; 
the  plantation  smiled  with  fresh   crops  ;    the 
negroes  on  the  estate  had  already  forgotten  my 
mother  and  transferred  their  simple  obedience 
to  myself  ;    but  still  the  cloud  only  darkened 
on  the  brows  of  Senor  Yaldevia.     His  absences 
from  home  had  been  frequent  even  in  the  old 
days,  for  he  did  business  in  precious  gems  in 
the  city  of  Havana  ;   they  now  became  almost 
continuous  ;  and  when  he  returned,  it  was  but 
for  the  night  and  with  the  manner  of  a  man 
crushed  down  by  adverse  fortune. 

The  place  where  I  was  born  and  passed  my 


228  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

days  was  an  isle  set  in  the  Caribbean  Sea,  some 
half -hour1  s  rowing  from  the  coast  of  Cnba.     It 
was  steep,  nigged,  and,  except  for  my  father's 
family  and  plantation,  uninhabited  and  left  to 
nature.     The  house,  a  low  building  surrounded 
by  spacious  verandas,  stood  upon  a  rise  of 
ground  and    looked  across  the  sea  to   Cuba, 
The  breezes  blew  about  it  gratefully,  fanned 
us  as  we  lay  swinging  in  our  silken  hammocks, 
and  tossed  the  boughs  and  flowers  of  the  mag- 
nolia.    Behind  and  to  the  left,  the  quarter  of 
the  negroes  and  the  waving  fields  of  the  plant- 
ation covered  an  eighth  part  of  the  surface  of 
the  isle.     On  the  right  and   closely  bordering 
on  the  garden  lay  a  vast  and   deadly  swamp, 
densely  covered  with  Avood,   breathing  fever, 
dotted  with  profound  sloughs,  and  inhabited 
by  poisonous  oysters,  man-eating  crabs,  snakes, 
alligators  and  sickly  fishes.     In  the  recesses  of 
that  jungle  none  could  penetrate  but  those  of 
African  descent;  an  invisible,  unconquerable 
foe  lay  there  in  wait  for  the  European  ;  and 
the  air  was  death. 

One  morning  (from  which  I  must  date  the 
beginning  of  my  ruinous  misfortune)  I  left  my 
room  a  little  after  day,  for  in  that  warm  climate 
all  are  early  risers,  and  found  not  a  servant  to 
attend  upon  my  wants.  I  made  the  circuit  of 
the  house,  still  calling :  and  my  surprise  had 
almost  changed  into  alarm,  when  coming  at 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  229 

last  into  a  large  verandaed  court,  I  found  it 
thronged  with  negroes.  Even  then,  even  when 
I  was  amongst  them,  not  one  turned  or  paid 
the  least  regard  to  my  arrival.  They  had  eyes 
and  ears  for  but  one  person  :  a  woman  richly 
and  tastefully  attired  ;  of  elegant  carriage,  and 
a  musical  speech  ;  not  so  much  old  in  years,  as 
worn  and  marred  by  self-indulgence  :  her  face, 
which  was  still  attractive,  stamped  with  the 
most  cruel  passions,  her  eye  burning  with  the 
greed  of  evil.  It  was  not  from  her  appearance, 
I  believe,  but  from  some  emanation  of  her  soul, 
that  I  recoiled  in  a  kind  of  fainting  terror  ;  as 
we  hear  of  plants  that  blight  and  snakes  that 
fascinate,  the  woman  shocked  and  daunted  me. 
But  I  was  of  a  brave  nature  ;  trod  the  weakness 
down  ;  and  forcing  my  way  through  the  slaves, 
who  fell  back  before  me  in  embarrassment,  as 
though  in  the  presence  of  rival  mistresses,  I 
asked,  in  imperious  tones :  "  Who  is  this  per- 
son?" 

A  girl  slave,  to  whom  I  had  been  kind, 
whispered  in  my  ear  to  have  a  care,  for  that 
was  Madam  Mendizabal ;  but  the  name  was 
new  to  me. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  woman,  applying  a 
pair  of  glasses  to  her  eyes,  studied  me  with 
insolent  particularity  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Young  woman,"  said  she,  at  last,  "I  have 
had  a  great  experience  in  refractory  servants, 


230  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

and  take  a  pride  in  breaking  them.  You  really 
tempt  me  ;  and  if  I  had  not  other  affairs,  and 
these  of  more  importance,  on  my  hand,  I  should 
certainly  buy  you  at  your  father's  sale." 

"Madam "  I  began,  but  my  voice  failed 

me. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  know  your 
position?"  she  returned  with  a  hateful  laugh. 
"  How  comical !  Positively,  I  must  buy  her. 
Accomplishments,  I  suppose?"  she  added, 
turning  to  the  servants. 

Several  assured  her  that  the  young  mistress 
had  been  brought  up  like  any  lady,  for  so  it 
seemed  in  their  inexperience. 

' '  She  would  do  very  well  for  my  place  of 
business  in  Havana,"  said  the  Sehora  Mendiza- 
bal,  once  more  studying  me  through  her  glasses  ; 
"  and  I  should  take  a  pleasure,"  she  pursued, 
more  directly  addressing  myself,  ' '  in  bringing 
you  acquainted  with  a  whip."  And  she  smiled 
at  me  with  a  savory  lust  of  cruelty  upon  her 
face. 

At  this  I  found  expression.  Calling  by  name 
upon  the  servants,  I  bade  them  turn  this  woman 
from  the  house,  fetch  her  to  the  boat,  and  set 
her  back  upon  the  mainland.  But  with  one 
voice,  they  protested  that  they  durst  not  obey, 
coming  close  about  me,  pleading  and  beseeching 
me  to  be  more  wise  ;  and  when  I  insisted,  rising 
higher  in  passion  and  speaking  of  this  foul 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  231 

intruder  in  the  terms  she  had  deserved,  they 
fell  back  from  me  as  from  one  who  had  blas- 
phemed. A  superstitious  reverence  plainly 
encircled  the  stranger  ;  I  could  read  it  in  their 
changed  demeanor,  and  in  the  paleness  that 
prevailed  upon  the  natural  color  of  their  faces  ; 
and  their  fear  perhaps  reacted  on  myself.  I 
looked  again  at  Madam  Mendizabal.  She  stood 
perfectly  composed,  watching  my  face  through 
her  glasses  with  a  smile  of  scorn  ;  and  at  the 
sight  of  her  assured  superiority  to  all  my 
threats,  a  cry  broke  from  my  lips,  a  cry  of 
rage,  fear  and  despair,  and  I  fled  from  the 
veranda  and  the  house. 

I  ran  I  knew  not  where,  but  it  was  toward 
the  beach.  As  I  went,  my  head  whirled  ;  so 
strange,  so  sudden,  were  these  events  and 
insults.  Who  was  she?  what  in  Heaven's 
name  the  power  she  wielded  over  my  obedient 
negroes?  Why  had  she  addressed  me  as  a 
slave  ?  why  spoken  of  my  father' s  sale  ?  To 
all  these  tumultuary  questions  I  could  find  no 
answer  ;  and  in  the  turmoil  of  my  mind,  noth- 
ing was  plain  except  the  hateful,  leering  image 
of  the  woman. 

I  was  still  running,  mad  with  fear  and  anger, 
when  I  saw  my  father  coming  to  meet  me  from 
the  landing-place  ;  and  with  a  cry  that  I 
thought  would  have  killed  me,  leaped  into  his 
arms  and  broke  into  a  passion  of  sobs  and  tears 


232  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

upon  his  bosom.  He  made  me  sit  down  below 
a  tall  palmetto  that  grew  not  far  off,  comforted 
me,  but  with  some  abstraction  in  his  voice,  and 
as  soon  as  I  regained  the  least  command  upon 
my  feelings,  asked  me,  not  without  harshness, 
what  this  grief  betokened.  I  was  surprised  by 
his  tone  into  a  still  greater  measure  of  compos- 
ure ;  and  in  firm  tones,  though  still  interrupted 
by  sobs,  I  told  him  there  was  a  stranger  in  the 
island,  at  which  I  thought  he  started  and 
turned  pale  ;  that  the  servants  would  not  obey 
me  ;  that  the  stranger's  name  was  Madam  Men- 
dizabal,  and  at  that  he  seemed  to  me  both 
troubled  and  relieved  ;  that  she  had  insulted 
me,  treated  me  as  a  slave  (and  here  my  father's 
brow  began  to  darken),  threatened  to  buy  me 
at  a  sale,  and  questioned  my  own  servants 
before  my  face  ;  and  that,  at  last,  finding  my- 
self quite  helpless  and  exposed  to  these  intol- 
erable liberties,  I  had  fled  from  the  house  in 
terror,  indignation  and  amazement. 

"Teresa,"  said  my  father,  with  singular 
gravity  of  voice,  ' '  I  must  make  to-day  a  call 
upon  your  courage  ;  much  must  be  told  you, 
there  is  much  that  you  must  do  to  help  me  ; 
and  my  daughter  must  prove  herself  a  woman 
by  her  spirit.  As  for  this  Mendizabal,  what 
shall  I  say  %  or  how  am  I  to  tell  you  what  she 
is  %  Twenty  years  ago,  she  was  the  loveliest  of 
slaves  ;  to-day  she  is  what  you  see  her — prema- 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  233 

turely  old,  disgraced  by  the  practice  of  every 
vice  and  every  nefarious  industry,  but  free,  rich, 
married,  they  say,  to  some  reputable  man, 
whom  may  Heaven  assist !  and  exercising 
among  her  ancient  mates,  the  slaves  of  Cuba, 
an  influence  as  unbounded  as  its  reason  is  mys- 
terious. Horrible  rites,  it  is  supposed,  cement 
her  empire :  the  rites  of  Hoodoo.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  I  would  have  you  dismiss  the 
thought  of  this  incomparable  witch ;  it  is  not 
from  her  that  danger  threatens  us,  and  into  her 
hands,  I  make  bold  to  promise,  you  shall  never 
fall." 

' '  Father !  "  I  cried.  ' '  Fall  ?  Was  there  any 
truth,  then,  in  her  words  %  Am  I — oh  father, 
tell  me  plain  ;  I  can  bear  any  thing  but  this  sus- 
pense." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  replied,  "with  merciful 
bluntness.  Your  mother  was  a  slave  ;  it  was 
my  design,  so  soon  as  I  had  saved  a  compe- 
tence, to  sail  to  the  free  land  of  Britain,  where 
the  law  would  suffer  me  to  marry  her  :  a  design 
too  long  procrastinated  ;  for  death  at  the  last 
moment  intervened.  You  will  now  under- 
stand the  heaviness  with  which  your  mother' s 
memory  hangs  about  my  neck." 

I  cried  out  aloud,  in  pity  for  my  parents  ; 
and  in  seeking  to  console  the  survivor,  I  forgot 
myself. 

"It    matters    not,"     resumed    my   father. 


234  THE  FA1R  CUBAN. 

"What  I  have  left  undone  can  never  be  re- 
paired, and  I  must  bear  the  penalty  of  my 
remorse.  But,  Teresa,  with  so  cutting  a  reminder 
of  the  evils  of  delay,  I  set  myself  at  once  to  do 
what  was  still  possible:  to  liberate  yourself." 

I  began  to  break  forth  in  thanks,  but  he 
checked  me  with  a  somber  roughness. 

"  Your  mother's  illness,"  he  resumed,  "  had 
engaged  too  great  a  portion  of  my  time ;  my 
business  in  the  city  had  lain  too  long  at  the 
mercy  of  ignorant  underlings  ;  my  head,  my 
taste,  my  unequaled  knowledge  of  the  more 
precious  stones,  that  art  by  which  I  can  distin- 
guish, even  on  the  darkest  night,  a  sapphire 
from  a  ruby,  and  tell  at  a  glance  in  what  quar- 
ter of  the  earth  a  gem  was  disinterred — all  these 
had  been  too  long  absent  from  the  conduct  of 
affairs.     Teresa,  I  was  insolvent." 

' '  What  matters  that  % "  I  cried.  ' '  What 
matters  poverty,  if  we  be  left  together  with  our 
love  and  sacred  memories  \ ' ' 

'  'You  do  not  comprehend,"  he  said  gloomily. 
"  Slave,  as  you  are,  young — alas  !  scarce  more 
than  child  ! — accomplished,  beautiful  with  the 
most  touching  beauty,  innocent  as  an  angel — all 
these  qualities  that  should  disarm  the  very 
wolves  and  crocodiles,  are,  in  the  eyes  of  those 
to  whom  I  stand  indebted,  commodities  to  buy 
and  sell.  You  are  a  chattel ;  a  marketable 
thing  ;  and  worth — heavens,  that  I  should  say 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  235 

such  words  ! — worth  money.  Do  you  begin  to 
see  ?  If  I  were  to  give  you  freedom,  I  should 
defraud  my  creditors  ;  the  manumission  would 
be  certainly  annulled  ;  you  would  be  still  a 
slave,  and  I  a  criminal." 

I  caught  his  hand  in  mine,  kissed  it,  and 
moaned  in  pity  for  myself,  in  sympathy  for  my 
father. 

"How  I  have  toiled,"  he  continued,  "how  I 
have  dared  and  striven  to  repair  my  losses, 
Heaven  has  beheld  and  will  remember.  Its  bless- 
ing was  denied  to  my  endeavors,  or,  as  I  please 
myself  by  thinking,  but  delayed  to  descend 
upon  my  daughter's  head.  At  length,  all  hope 
was  at  an  end  ;  I  was  ruined  beyond  retrieve  ; 
a  heavy  debt  fell  clue  upon  the  morrow,  which 
I  could  not  meet ;  I  should  be  declared  a  bank- 
rupt, and  my  goods,  my  lands,  my  jewels  that 
I  so  much  loved,  my  slaves  whom  I  have  spoiled 
and  rendered  happy,  and  oh  !  ten-fold  worse, 
you,  my  beloved  daughter,  would  be  sold  and 
pass  into  the  hands  of  ignorant  and  greedy 
traffickers.  Too  long,  I  saw,  had  I  accepted 
and  profited  by  this  great  crime  of  slavery  ;  but 
was  my  daughter,  my  innocent,  unsullied 
daughter,  was  she  to  pay  the  price  \  I  cried 
out — no  ! — I  took  Heaven  to  witness  my  tempta- 
tion ;  I  caught  up  this  bag  and  fled.  Close 
upon  my  track  are  the  pursuers  ;  perhaps  to- 
morrow, they  will  land  upon  this  isle,  sacred  to 


236  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

the  memory  of  the  dear  soul  that  bore  yon,  to 
consign  your  father  to  an  ignominious  prison, 
and  yourself  to  slavery  and  dishonor.  We 
have  not  many  hours  before  us.  Off  the  north 
coast  of  our  isle,  by  strange  good  fortune,  an 
English  yacht  has  for  some  days  been  hovering. 
It  belongs  to  Sir  George  Greville,  whom  I 
slightly  know,  to  whom  ere  now  I  have  ren- 
dered unusual  services,  and  who  will  not  refuse 
to  help  in  our  escape.  Or  if  he  did,  if  his 
gratitude  were  in  default,  I  have  the  power  to 
force  him.  For  what  does  it  mean,  my  child — 
what  means  this  Englishman,  who  hangs  for 
years  upon  the  shores  of  Cuba,  and  returns 
from  every  trip  with  new  and  valuable  gems!  " 

"  He  may  have  found  a  mine,"  I  hazarded. 

"  So  he  declares,"  returned  my  father  ;  "but 
the  strange  gift  I  have  received  from  nature, 
easily  transpierced  the  fable.  He  brought  me 
diamonds  only,  which  I  bought,  at  first,  in 
innocence  ;  at  a  second  glance,  I  started  ;  for 
of  these  stones,  my  child,  some  had  first  seen 
the  day  in  Africa,  some  in  Brazil ;  while  others, 
from  their  peculiar  water  and  rude  workman- 
ship, I  divined  to  be  the  spoil  of  ancient  tem- 
ples. Thus  put  upon  the  scent,  I  made  inquiries  : 
oh,  he  is  cunning,  but  I  was  cunninger  than  he. 
He  visited,  I  found,  the  shop  of  every  jeweler 
in  town ;  to  one  he  came  with  rubies,  to  one 
with  emeralds,  to  one  with  precious  beryl ;  to 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  237 

all,  with  this  same  story  of  the  mine.  But  in 
what  mine,  what  rich  epitome  of  the  earth's 
surface,  were  there  conjoined  the  rubies  of 
Ispahan,  the  pearls  of  Coromanclel  and  the 
diamonds  of  Golconda  %  No,  child,  that  man, 
for  all  his  yacht  and  title,  that  man  must  fear 
and  must  obey  me.  To-night,  then,  as  soon  as 
it  is  dark,  we  must  take  our  way  through  the 
swamp  by  the  path  which  I  shall  presently 
show  you  ;  thence,  across  the  highlands  of  the 
isle  a  track  is  blazed,  which  shall  conduct  us 
to  the  haven  on  the  north  ;  and  close  by  the 
yacht  is  riding.  Should  my  pursuers  come 
before  the  hour  at  which  I  look  to  see  them, 
they  will  still  arrive  too  late  ;  a  trusty  man 
attends  on  the  mainland  ;  as  soon  as  they 
appear,  we  shall  behold,  if  it  be  dark,  the  red- 
ness of  a  fire,  if  it  be  day,  a  pillar  of  smoke,  on 
the  opposing  headland  ;  and  thus  warned,  we 
shall  have  time  to  put  the  swamp  between  our- 
selves and  danger.  Meantime,  I  would  conceal 
this  bag  ;  I  would,  before  all  things,  be  seen  to 
arrive  at  the  house  with  empty  hands  ;  a  blab- 
bing slave  might  else  undo  us.  For  see  !  "  he 
added  ;  and  holding  up  the  bag,  which  he  had 
already  shown  me,  he  poured  into  my  lap  a 
shower  of  unmounted  jeAvels,  brighter  than 
flowers,  of  every  size  and  color,  and  catching, 
as  they  fell,  upon  a  million  dainty  facets,  the 
ardor  of  the  sun. 


238  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

I  could  not  restrain  a  cry  of  admiration. 

"  Even  in  your  ignorant  eyes,"  pursued  my 
father,  "  they  command  respect.  Yet  what  are 
they  but  pebbles,  passive  to  the  tool,  cold  as 
death?  Ingrate  !"  he  cried.  "Each  one  of 
these — miracles  of  nature's  patience,  conceived 
out  of  the  dust  in  centuries  of  microscopical 
activity,  each  one  is,  for  you  and  me,  a  year  of 
life,  liberty  and  mutual  affection.  How,  then, 
should  I  cherish  them  %  and  why  do  I  delay  to 
place  them  beyond  reach  ?   Teresa,  follow  me." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  led  me  to  the  borders 
of  the  great  jungle,  where  they  overhung,  in  a 
wall  of  poisonous  and  dusky  foliage,  the  de- 
clivity of  the  hill  on  which  my  father's  house 
stood  planted.  For  some  while  he  skirted, 
with  attentive  eyes,  the  margin  of  the  thicket. 
Then,  seeming  to  recognize  some  mark,  for  his 
countenance  became  immediately  lightened  of 
thought,  he  paused  and  addressed  me. 

"Here,"  said  he,  "is  the  entrance  of  the 
secret  path  that  I  have  mentioned,  and  here 
you  shall  await  me.  I  but  pass  some  hundreds 
of  yards  into  the  swamp  to  bury  my  poor  treas- 
ure ;  as  soon  as  that  is  safe,  I  will  return." 

It  was  in  vain  that  I  sought  to  dissuade  him, 
urging  the  dangers  of  the  place  ;  in  vain  that  I 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  folloAv,  pleading  the 
black  blood  that  I  now  knew  to  circulate  in  my 
veins.     To  all  my  appeals  he  turned  a  deaf  ear, 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  239 

and,  bending  back  a  portion  of  the  screen  of 
bushes,  disappeared  into  the  pestilential  silence 
of  the  swamp. 

At  the  end  of  a  full  hour  the  bushes  were 
once  more  thrust  aside,  and  my  father  stepped 
from  out  the  thicket  and  paused  and  almost 
staggered  in  the  first  shock  of  the  Minding  sun- 
light. His  face  was  of  a  singular  dusky  red  ; 
and  yet  for  all  the  heat  of  the  tropical  noon, 
he  did  not  seem  to  sweat. 

"  You  are  tired,"  I  cried,  springing  to  meet 
him.     "You  are  ill." 

"  I  am  tired,"  he  replied;  "the  air  in  that 
jungle  stifles  one  ;  my  eyes,  besides,  have  grown 
accustomed  to  its  gloom,  and  the  strong  sun- 
shine pierces  them  like  knives.  A  moment, 
Teresa,  give  me  but  a  moment.  All  shall  yet 
be  well.  I  have  buried  the  hoard  under  a 
cypress,  immediately  beyond  the  bayou,  on  the 
left  hand  margin  of  the  path  ;  beautiful,  bright 
things,  they  now  lie  whelmed  in  slime  ;  you 
shall  find  them  there,  if  needful.  But  come, 
let  us  to  the  house  ;  it  is  time  to  eat  against 
our  journey  of  the  night ;  to  eat  and  then  to 
sleep,  my  poor  Teresa  ;  then  to  sleep."  And  he 
looked  upon  me  out  of  bloodshot  eyes,  shak- 
ing his  head  as  if  in  pity. 

We  went  hurriedly,  for  he  kept  murmuring 
that  he  had  been  gone  too  long  and  that  the 
servants    might  suspect ;   passed  through  the 


249  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

airy  stretch  of  the  veranda,  and  came  at  length 
into  the  grateful  twilight  of  the  shuttered 
house.  The  meal  was  spread  ;  the  house  serv- 
ants, already  informed  by  the  boatmen  of  the 
master's  return,  were  all  back  at  their  posts, 
and  terrified,  as  I  could  see,  to  face  me.  My 
father  still  murmuring  of  haste  with  weary  and 
feverish  pertinacity,  I  hurried  at  once  to  take 
my  place  at  table  ;  but  I  had  no  sooner  left  his 
arm  than  he  paused  and  thrust  forth  both  his 
hands  with  a  strange  gesture  of  giving.  ' '  How 
is  Ihis?  "  he  cried,  in  a  sharp,  inhuman  voice. 
' '  Am  I  blind  % ' '  I  ran  to  him  and  tried  to  lead 
him  to  the  table ;  but  he  resisted  and  stood 
stiffly  where  he  was,  opening  and  shutting  his 
jaws,  as  if  in  a  painful  effort  after  breath.  Then 
suddenly  he  raised  both  hands  to  his  temples, 
cried  out,  "My  head,  my  head  !  "  and  reeled 
and  fell  against  the  wall. 

I  knew  too  well  what  it  must  be.  I  turned  and 
begged  the  servants  to  relieve  him.  But  they, 
with  one  accord,  denied  the  possibility  of  hope  ; 
the  master  had  gone  into  the  swamp,  they  said, 
the  master  must  die  ;  all  help  was  idle.  Why 
should  I  dwell  upon  his  sufferings  \  I  had  him 
carried  to  a  bed,  and  watched  beside  him.  He 
lay  still,  and  at  times  ground  his  teeth,  and 
talked  at  times  unintelligibly,  only  that  one 
word  of  hurry,  hurry,  coming  distinctly  to  my 
ears,  and  telling  me  that,  even  in  the  last  strug- 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  241 

gle  with  the  powers  of  death,  his  mind  was  still 
tortured  by  his  daughter's  peril.  The  sun  had 
gone  down,  the  darkness  had  fallen,  when  I 
perceived  that  I  was  alone  on  this  unhappy 
earth.  What  thought  had  I  of  flight,  of  safety, 
of  the  impending  dangers  of  my  situation  ? 
Beside  the  body  of  my  last  friend,  I  had  for- 
gotten all  except  the  natural  pangs  of  my 
bereavement. 

The  sun  was  some  four  hours  above  the  east- 
ern line,  when  I  was  called  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  things  of  earth,  by  the  entrance  of  the  slave- 
girl  to  whom  I  have  already  referred.  The  poor 
soul  was  indeed  devotedly  attached  to  me  ;  and 
it  was  wTith  streaming  tears  that  she  broke  to 
me  the  import  of  her  coming.  With  the  first 
light  of  dawn  a  boat  had  reached  our  landing- 
place,  and  set  on  shore  upon  our  isle  (till  now 
so  fortunate)  a  party  of  officers  bearing  a  war- 
rant to  arrest  my  father's  person,  and  a  man 
of  a  gross  body  and  low  manners,  who  declared 
the  island,  the  plantation  and  all  its  human 
chattels,  to  be  now  his  own.  "  I  think,"  said 
my  slave  girl,  "he  must  be  a  politician  or  some 
very  powerful  sorcerer  ;  for  Madam  Mendiza- 
bal  had  no  sooner  seen  them  coming,  than  she 
took  to  the  woods." 

"Fool,"  said  I,  "it  was  the  officers  she 
feared  ;  and  at  any  rate  why  does  that  beldam 
still  dare  to  pollute  the  island  with  her  pres- 


242  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

ence  %  And  oil,  Cora,"  I  exclaimed,  remember- 
ing my  grief,  ' '  what  matter  all  these  troubles 
to  an  orphan  V9 

"Mistress,"  said  she,  "I  must  remind  you 
of  two  things.  Never  speak  as  you  do  now  of 
Madam  Mendizabal ;  or  never  to  a  person  of 
color  ;  for  she  is  the  most  powerful  woman  in 
this  world,  and  her  real  name  even,  if  one  durst 
pronounce  it,  were  a  spell  to  raise  the  dead. 
And  whatever  you  do,  speak  no  more  of  her  to 
your  unhappy  Cora  ;  for  though  it  is  possible 
she  may  be  afraid  of  the  police  (and  indeed  I 
think  that  I  have  heard  that  she  is  in  hiding) 
and  though  I  know  that  you  will  laugh  and  not 
believe,  yet  it  is  true,  and  proved,  and  known 
that  she  hears  every  word  that  people  utter  in 
this  whole,  vast  world  ;  and  your  poor  Cora  is 
already  deep  enough  in  her  black  books.  She 
looks  at  me,  mistress,  till  my  blood  turns  ice. 
That  is  the  first  I  had  to  say  ;  and  now  for  the 
second :  do,  pray,  for  Heaven' s  sake,  bear  in 
mind  that  you  are  no  longer  the  poor  Sehor's 
daughter.  He  is  gone,  dear  gentleman  ;  and 
now  you  are  no  more  than  a  common  slave-girl 
like  myself.  The  man  to  whom  you  belong 
calls  for  you  ;  oh  my  dear  mistress,  go  at  once  ! 
With  your  youth  and  beauty,  you  may  still, 
if  you  are  winning  and  obedient,  secure  your- 
self an  easy  life." 

For  a  moment  I  looked  on  the  creature  with 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  243 

the  indignation  you  may  conceive  ;  the  next  it 
was  gone  :  she  did  but  speak  after  her  kind,  as 
the  bird  sings  or  cattle  bellow.  "  Go,"  said  I. 
' '  Go,  Cora.  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  inten- 
tions. Leave  me  alone  one  moment  with  my 
dead  father ;  and  tell  this  man  that  I  will  come 
at  once." 

She  went ;  and  I,  turning  to  the  bed  of  death, 
addressed  to  those  deaf  ears  the  last  appeal 
and  defense  of  my  beleaguered  innocence. 
"  Father,"  I  said,  "it  was  your  last  thought, 
even  in  the  pangs  of  dissolution,  that  your 
daughter  should  escape  disgrace.  Here,  at 
your  side,  I  swear  to  you  that  purpose  shall  be 
carried  out ;  by  what  means,  I  know  not ;  by 
crime,  if  need  be ;  and  heaven  forgive  both  you 
and  me  and  our  oppressors,  and  heaven  help 
my  helplessness  ! ' '  Thereupon  I  felt  strength- 
ened as  by  long  repose  ;  stepped  to  the  mirror, 
ay,  even  in  that  chamber  of  the  dead  ;  hastily 
arranged  my  hair,  refreshed  my  tear- worn  eyes, 
breathed  a  dumb  farewell  to  the  originator  of 
my  days  and  sorrows ;  and  composing  my 
features  to  a  smile,  went  forth  to  meet  my 
master. 

He  was  in  a  great,  hot  bustle,  reviewing  that 
house,  once  ours,  to  which  he  had  but  now  suc- 
ceeded ;  a  corpulent,  sanguine  man  of  middle 
age,  sensual,  vulgar,  humorous,  and,  if  I  judged 
rightly,  not  ill-disposed  by  nature.     But  the 


244  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

sparkle  that  came  into  his  eye  as  he  observed 
me  enter,  warned  me  to  expect  the  worst. 

"  Is  this  your  late  mistress  % "  he  inquired  of 
the  slaves  ;  and  when  he  had  learned  it  was  so, 
instantly  dismissed  them.  "  Now,  my  dear," 
said  he,  "I  am  a  plain  man:  none  of  your 
damned  Spaniards,  but  a  true  blue,  hard-work- 
ing, honest  Englishman.  My  name  is  Caulder." 

"Thank you,  sir,"  said  I,  and courtesied very 
smartly  as  I  had  seen  the  servants. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  "  this  is  better  than  I  had 
expected  ;  and  if  you  choose  to  be  dutiful  in 
the  station  to  which  it  has  pleased  God  to  call 
you,  you  will  find  me  a  very  kind  old  fellow. 
I  like  your  looks,"  he  added,  calling  me  by  my 
name,  which  he  scandalously  mispronounced. 
"  Is  your  hair  all  your  own  %  "  he  then  inquired 
with  a  certain  sharpness,  and  coming  up  to  me, 
as  though  I  were  a  horse,  he  grossly  satisfied 
his  doubts.  I  was  all  one  flame  from  head  to 
foot,  but  I  contained  my  righteous  anger  and 
submitted.  "  That  is  very  well,"  he  continued, 
chucking  me  good-humoredly  under  the  chin. 
"You  will  have  no  cause  to  regret  coming  to 
old  Caulder,  eh  ?  But  that  is  by  the  way.  What 
is  more  to  the  point  is  this  :  your  late  master 
was  a  most  dishonest  rogue  and  levanted  with 
some  valuable  property  that  belonged  of  rights 
to  me.  Now,  considering  your  relation  to  him, 
I  regard  you  as  the  likeliest  person  to  know 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  245 

what  lias  become  of  it ;  and  I  warn  yon,  before 
yon  answer,  that  my  whole  future  kindness  will 
depend  upon  your  honesty.  I  am  an  honest 
man  myself,  and  expect  the  same  in  my  serv- 
ants." 

"Do  you  mean  the  jewels?"  said  I,  sinking 
my  voice  into  a  whisper. 

"  That  is  just  precisely  what  I  do,"  said  he, 
and  chuckled. 

"Hush!"  said  I. 

"Hush?"  he  repeated,  "And  why  hush? 
I  am  on  my  own  place,  I  would  have  you  to 
know,  and  surrounded  by  my  own  lawful  serv- 
ants." 

"Are  the  officers  gone ? "  I  asked;  and  oh, 
how  my  hopes  hung  upon  the  answer  ? 

"They  are,"  said  he,  looking  somewhat  dis- 
concerted.    "  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  had  kept  them,"  I  answered, 
solemnly  enough,  although  my  heart  at  that 
same  moment  leaped  with  exultation.  "  Mas- 
ter, I  must  not  conceal  from  you  the  truth. 
The  servants  on  this  estate  are  in  a  dangerous 
condition,  and  mutiny  has  long  been  brewing." 

' '  Why,"  he  cried,  ' '  I  never  saw  a  milder-look- 
ing lot  of  niggers  in  my  life."  But  for  all  that 
he  turned  somewhat  pale. 

"Did  they  tell  you,"  I  continued,  "that 
Madam  Mendizabal  is  on  the  island  ?  that, 
since  her  coming,  they  obey  none  but  her  ?  that 


246  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

if,  this  morning,  they  have  received  you  with 
even  decent  civility,  it  was  only  by  her  orders 
— issued  with  what  after-thought  I  leave  you 
to  consider  ? ' ' 

"  Madam  Jezebel  \  "  said  he.  "  Well,  she  is 
a  dangerous  devil ;  the  police  are  after  her,  be- 
sides, for  a  whole  series  of  murders  ;  but  after 
all,  what  then?  To  be  sure,  she  has  a  great 
influence  with  you  colored  folk.  But  what  in 
fortune's  name  can  be  her  errand  here  % " 

"The  jewels,"  I  replied.  "Ah,  sir,  had  you 
seen  that  treasure,  sapphire  and  emerald  and 
opal,  and  the  golden  topaz,  and  rubies,  red  as 
the  sunset— of  what  incalculable  worth,  of 
what  unequaled  beauty  to  the  eye  ! — had  you 
seen  it,  as  I  have,  and  alas  !  as  she  has — you 
would  understand  and  tremble  at  your  danger." 

"She  has  seen  them  !  "  he  cried,  and  I  could 
see  by  his  face,  that  my  audacity  was  justified 
by  its  success. 

I  caught  his  hand  in  mine.  "My  master," 
said  I,  "I  am  now  yours;  it  is  my  duty,  it 
should  be  my  pleasure,  to  defend  your  interests 
and  life.  Hear  my  advice  then  ;  and,  I  conjure 
you,  be  guided  by  prudence.  Follow  me  priv- 
ily ;  let  none  see  where  we  are  going :  I  will 
lead  you  to  the  place  where  the  treasure  has 
been  buried  ;  that  once  disinterred,  let  us  make 
straight  for  the  boat,  escape  to  the  mainland, 
and  not  return  to  this  dangerous  isle  without 
the  countenance  of  soldiers." 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  247 

What  free  man  in  a  free  land,  would  have 
credited  so  sudden  a  devotion  \  But  this  op- 
pressor, through  the  very  arts  and  sophistries 
he  had  abused,  to  quiet  the  rebellion  of  his 
conscience  and  to  convince  himself  that  slavery 
was  natural,  fell  like  a  child  into  the  trap  I 
laid  for  him.  He  praised  and  thanked  me ; 
told  me  I  had  all  the  qualities  he  valued  in  a 
servant  ;  and  when  he  had  questioned  me  fur- 
ther as  to  the  nature  and  value  of  the  treasure, 
and  I  had  once  more  artfully  inflamed  his  greed, 
bade  me  without  delay  proceed  to  carry  out 
my  plan  of  action. 

From  a  shed  in  the  garden,  I  took  a  pick 
and  a  shovel :  and  thence,  by  devious  jjaths 
among  the  magnolias,  led  my  master  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  swamp.  I  walked  first,  carrying, 
as  I  was  now  in  duty  bound,  the  tools,  and 
glancing  continually  behind  me.  lest  we  should 
be  spied  upon  and  followed.  "When  we  were 
come  as  far  as  the  beginning  of  the  path,  it 
flashed  into  my  mind  I  had  forgotten  meat ; 
and  leaving  Mr.  Caulder  in  the  shadow  of  a 
tree,  I  returned  alone  to  the  house  for  a  basket 
of  provisions.  Were  they  for  him  %  I  asked 
myself.  And  a  voice  within  me  answered.  No. 
While  we  were  face  to  face,  while  I  still  saw 
before  my  eyes  the  man  to  whom  I  belonged 
as  the  hand  belongs  to  the  body,  my  indigna- 
tion held  me  bravely  up.     But  now  that  I  was 


248  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

alone,  I  conceived  a  sickness  at  myself  and  my 
designs  that  I  could  scarce  endure  ;  I  longed  to 
throw  myself  at  his  feet,  avow  my  intended 
treachery,  and  warn  him  from  that  pestilential 
swamp,  to  which  I  was  decoying  him  to  die ; 
but  my  vow  to  my  dead  father,  my  duty  to  my 
innocent  youth,  prevailed  against  these  scru- 
ples ;  and  though  my  face  was  pale  and  must 
have  reflected  the  horror  that  oppressed  my 
spirits,  it  was  with  a  firm  step  that  I  returned 
to  the  borders  of  the  swamp,  and  with  smiling 
lips  bade  him  rise  and  follow  me. 

The  path  on  which  Ave  now  entered  was  cut 
like  a  tunnel,  through  the  living  jungle.  On 
either  hand  and  overhead,  the  mass  of  foliage 
was  continuously  joined  ;  the  day  sparingly 
filtered  through  the  depth  of  super-impending 
wood  ;  and  the  air  was  hot  like  steam,  and 
heavy  with  vegetable  odors,  and  lay  like  a  load 
upon  the  lungs  and  brain.  Under  foot,  a  great 
depth  of  mold  received  our  silent  footprints ; 
on  each  side  mimosas,  as  tall  as  a  man,  shrank 
from  my  passing  skirts  with  a  continuous  hiss- 
ing rustle  ;  and  but  for  these  sentient  vegetables, 
all  in  that  den  of  pestilence  was  motionless  and 
noiseless. 

We  had  gone  but  a  little  way  in,  when  Mr. 
Caulder  was  seized  with  sudden  nausea,  and 
must  sit  down  a  moment  on  the  path.  My  heart 
yearned,    as  I  beheld    him ;  and    I    seriously 


THE  FAIR  CUB  AX.  249 

begged  the  doomed  mortal  to  return  upon  his 
steps.  What  were  a  few  jewels  in  the  scales 
with  life  %  I  asked.  But  no,  he  said  ;  that 
witch  Madam  Jezebel  would  find  them  out ;  he 
was  an  honest  man,  and  would  not  stand  to  be 
defrauded,  and  so  forth,  panting,  the  while, 
like  a  sick  dog.  Presently  he  got  to  his  feet 
again,  protesting  he  had  conquered  his  uneasi- 
ness ;  but  as  we  again  began  to  go  forward,  I  saw 
in  his  changed  countenance  the  first  approach 
of  death. 

"Master,"  said  I,  "you  look  pale,  deathly 
pale  ;  your  pallor  fills  me  with  dread.  Your 
eyes  are  bloodshot ;  they  are  red  like  the  rubies 
that  we  seek." 

"  Wench,"  he  cried,  "look  before  you  ;  look 
at  your  steps.  I  declare  to  Heaven,  if  you  an- 
noy me  once  again  by  looking  back,  I  shall 
remind  you  of  the  change  in  your  position." 

A  little  after,  I  observed  a  worm  upon  the 
ground,  and  told,  in  a  whisper,  that  its  touch 
was  death.  Presently  a  great  green  serpent, 
vivid  as  the  grass  in  spring,  wound  rapidly 
across  the  path ;  and  once  again  I  paused  and 
looked  back  at  my  companion  with  a  horror  in 
my  eyes.  "The  coffin  snake,"  said  I,  "the 
snake  that  dogs  its  victim  like  a  hound." 

But  he  was  not  to  be  dissuaded.  "  I  am  an 
old  traveler,"  said  he.  "  This  is  a  foul  jungle 
indeed  ;  but  we  shall  soon  be  at  an  end." 


250  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

"  Ay,"  said  I,  looking  at  him  with  a  strange 
smile,  "what  end? " 

Thereupon  he  laughed  again  and  again,  but 
not  very  heartily ;  and  then,  perceiving  that 
the  path  began  to  widen  and  grow  higher, 
"There!"  said  he.  "What  did  I  tell  you? 
We  are  past  the  worst." 

Indeed,  we  had  now  come  to  the  bayou, 
which  was  in  that  place  very  narrow  and 
bridged  across  by  a  fallen  trunk  ;  but  on  either 
hand  we  could  see  it  broaden  out,  under  a  cav- 
ern of  great  arms  of  trees  and  hanging  creep- 
ers ;  sluggish,  putrid,  of  a  horrible  and  sickly 
stencil,  floated  on  by  the  flat  heads  of  alliga- 
tors, and  its  banks  alive  with  scarlet  crabs. 

"  If  we  fall  from  that  unsteady  bridge,"  said 
I,  "see,  where  the  cayman  lies  ready  to  devour 
us  !  If,  by  the  least  divergence  from  the  path, 
we  should  be  snared  in  a  morass,  see,  where 
those  myriads  of  scarlet  vermin  scour  the  bor- 
der of  the  thicket !  Once  helpless,  how  they 
would  swarm  together  to  the  assault !  What 
could  a  man  do  against  a  thousand  of  such 
mailed  assailants  %  And  what  a  death  were 
that,  to  perish  alive  under  their  claws  ! ' ' 

"Are  you  mad,  girl ?"  he  cried.  "I  bid 
you  be  silent  and  lead  on." 

Again  I  looked  upon  him,  half  relenting  ; 
and  at  that  he  raised  the  stick  that  was  in  his 
hand  and  cruelly  struck  111c  on  the  face.   "Lead 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  251 

on!"  he  cried  again.  "Must  I  be  all  day, 
catching  my  death  in  this  vile  slough,  and  all 
for  a  prating  slave-girl  ? ' ' 

I  took  the  blow  in  silence,  I  took  it  smiling  ; 
but  the  blood  welled  back  upon  my  heart. 
Something,  I  know  not  what,  fell  at  that 
moment  with  a  dull  plunge  in  the  waters  of 
the  lagoon,  and  I  told  myself  that  it  was  my 
pity  that  had  fallen. 

On  the  further  side,  to  which  we  now  hastily 
scrambled,  the  wood  was  not  so  dense,  the  web 
of  creepers  not  so  solidly  convolved.  It  was 
possible,  here  and  there,  to  mark  a  patch  of 
somewhat  brighter  daylight,  or  to  distinguish, 
through  the  lighter  web  of  parasites,  the  pro- 
portions of  some  soaring  tree.  The  cypress  on 
the  left  stood  very  visibly  forth  upon  the  edge 
of  such  a  clearing  ;  the  path  in  that  place  wid- 
ened broadly ;  and  there  was  a  patch  of  open 
ground,  beset  with  horrible  ant-heaps,  thick 
with  their  artificers.  I  laid  down  the  tools 
and  basket  by  the  cypress  root,  where  they 
were  instantly  blackened  over  with  the  crawl- 
ing ants  ;  and  looked  once  more  in  the  face  of 
my  unconscious  victim.  Musquitoes  and  foul 
Hies  wove  so  close  a  veil  between  us  that  his 
features  were  obscured  ;  and  the  sound  of  their 
flight  was  like  the  turning  of  a  mighty  wheel. 

"  Here,"  I  said,  "  is  the  spot.     I  can  not  dig, 
for  I  have  not  learned  to  use  such  instruments  ; 


252  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

but,  for  your  own  sake,  I  beseech  you  to  be 
swift  in  what  you  do." 

He  had  sunk  once  more  upon  the  ground, 
panting  like  a  fish  ;  and  I  saw  rising  in  his 
face  the  same  dusky  flush  that  had  mantled  on 
my  father's.  "  I  feel  ill,"  he  gasped,  "horri- 
bly ill ;  the  swamp  turns  around  me  ;  the  drone 
of  these  carrion  flies  confounds  me.  Have  you 
not  wine  \ ' ' 

I  gave  him  a  glass,  and  he  drank  greedily. 
"  It  is  for  you  to  think,"  said  I,  "if  you  should 
further  x^ersevere.  The  swamp  has  an  il]  name." 
And  at  the  word  I  ominously  nodded. 

"  Give  me  the  pick,"  said  he.  "  Where  are 
the  jewels  buried  \  " 

I  told  him  vaguely  ;  and  in  the  sweltering 
heat  and  closeness,  and  dim  twilight  of  the 
jungle,  he  began  to  wield  the  pickax,  swing- 
ing it  overhead  with  the  vigor  of  a  healthy 
man.  At  first,  there  broke  forth  upon  him  a 
strong  sweat,  that  made  his  face  to  shine,  and 
in  which  the  greedy  insects  settled  thickly. 

"To  sweat  in  such  a  place,"  said  I.  "Oh, 
master,  is  this  wise?  Fever  is  drunk  in 
through  open  pores." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  screamed,  paus- 
ing with  the  pick  buried  in  the  soil.  ' '  Do  you 
seek  to  drive  me  mad  ?  Do  you  think  I  do  not 
understand  the  danger  that  I  run  V 

"That  is  all  I  want,"  said  I ;  "I  only  wish 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  253 

you  to  be  swift."  And  then,  my  mind  flitting 
to  my  father's  death-bed,  I  began  to  murmur, 
scarce  above  my  breath,  the  same  vain  repeti- 
tion of  words,  Hurry,  hurry,  hurry. 

Presently,  to  my  surprise,  the  treasure-seeker 
took  them  up  ;  and  while  he  still  wielded  the 
pick,  but  now  with  staggering  and  uncertain 
blows,  repeated  to  himself,  as  it  were  the  bur- 
den of  a  song,  "Hurry,  hurry,  hurry;"  and 
then  again,  "There  is  no  time  to  lose;  the 
marsh  has  an  ill  name,  ill  name;"  and  then 
back  to  "  Hurry,  hurry,  hurry,"  with  a  dread- 
ful, mechanical,  hurried  and  yet  wearied  utter- 
ance, as  a  sick  man  rolls  upon  his  pillow.  The 
sweat  had  disappeared ;  he  was  now  dry,  but 
all  that  I  could  see  of  him,  of  the  same  dull 
brick  red.  Presently  his  pick  unearthed  the  bag 
of  jewels  ;  but  he  did  not  observe  it,  and  con- 
tinued hewing  the  soil. 

"  Master,"  said  I,  "there  is  the  treasure." 
He  seemed  to  waken  from  a  dream. 
"Where  \  "  he  cried  ;  and  then,  seeing  it  be- 
fore his  eyes,  "Can  this  be  possible?"  he 
added.  "  I  must  be  light-headed.  Girl,"  he 
cried  suddenly,  with  the  same  screaming  tone 
of  voice  that  I  had  once  before  observed,  "what 
is  wrong  \  is  this  swamp  accursed  % ' ' 

"It  is  a  grave,"  I  answered.  "You  will  not 
go  out  alive  ;  and  as  for  me,  my  life  is  in  God's 
hands." 


254  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

He  fell  upon  the  ground  like  a  man  struck  by 
a  blow,  but  whether  from  the  effect  of  my 
words,  or  from  sudden  seizure  of  the  malady,  I 
can  not  tell.  Pretty  soon,  he  raised  his  head. 
"You  have  brought  me  hero  to  die,"  he  said  ; 
"at  the  risk  of  your  own  days,  you  have  con- 
demned me.     Why  \ ' ' 

"To  save  my  honor,"  I  replied.  "Bear  me 
out  that  I  have  warned  you.  Greed  of  these 
pebbles,  and  not  I,  has  been  your  undoer." 

He  took  out  his  revolver  and  handed  it  to  me. 
"  You  see,"  he  said,  "  I  could  have  killed  you 
even  yet.  But  I  am  dying,  as  you  say ;  noth- 
ing could  save  me  ;  and  my  bill  is  long  enough 
already.  Dear  me,  dear  me,"  he  said,  looking 
in  my  face  with  a  curious,  puzzled  and  pathetic 
look,  like  a  dull  child  at  school,  ' '  if  there  be  a 
judgment  afterwards,  my  bill  is  long  enough." 

At  that,  I  broke  into  a  passion  of  weeping, 
crawled  at  his  feet,  kissed  his  hands,  begged  his 
forgiveness,  put  the  pistol  back  into  his  grasp 
and  besought  him  to  avenge  his  death  ;  for  in- 
deed, if  with  my  life  I  could  have  brought  back 
his,  I  had  not  balanced  at  the  cost.  But  he 
was  determined,  the  poor  soul,  that  I  should 
yet  more  bitterly  regret  my  act. 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  said  he.  "  Dear 
heaven,  what  a  thing  is  an  old  fool  !  I 
thought,  upon  my  word,  you  had  taken  quite  a 
fancy  to  me." 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  255 

He  was  seized,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  dread- 
ful, swimming  dizziness,  clung  to  me  like  a 
child,  and  called  upon  the  name  of  some  woman. 
Presently  this  spasm,  which  I  watched  with 
choking  tears,  lessened  and  died  away  ;  and  he 
came  again  to  the  full  possession  of  his  mind. 
"I  must  write  my  will,"  he  said.  "  Get  out 
my  pocket-book."  I  did  so,  and  he  wrote 
hurriedly  on  one  page  with  a  pencil.  "  Do  not 
let  my  son  know,"  he  said,  "  he  is  a  cruel  dog, 
is  my  son  Philip  ;  do  not  let  him  know  how  you 
have  paid  me  out ; "  and  then  all  of  a  sudden, 
"God,"  he  cried,  "I  am  blind,"  and  clapped 
both  hands  before  his  eyes  ;  and  then  again, 
and  in  a  groaning  whisper,  "Don't  leave  me  to 
the  crabs  !  "  I  swore  I  would  be  true  to  him  so 
long  as  a  pulse  stirred ;  and  I  redeemed  my 
promise.  I  sat  there  and  watched  him,  as 
I  had  watched  my  father,  but  with  what  differ- 
ent, with  what  appalling  thoughts  !  Through 
the  long  afternoon  he  gradually  sank.  All 
that  while,  I  fought  an  uphill  battle  to  shield 
him  from  the  swarms  of  ants  and  the  cloud  of 
musquitoes  :  the  prisoner  of  my  crime.  The 
night  fell,  the  roar  of  insects  instantly  redoub- 
led in  the  dark  arcades  of  the  swamp;  and  still 
I  was  not  sure  that  he  had  breathed  his  last. 
At  length,  the  flesh  of  his  hand,  which  I  yet 
held  in  mine,  grew  chill  between  my  fingers, 
and  I  knew  that  I  was  free. 


256  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

I  took  his  pocket-book  and  the  revolver,  being 
resolved  rather  to  die  than  to  be  captured,  and 
laden  besides  with  the  basket  and  the  bag  of 
gems,  set  forward  towards  the  north.  The 
swamp,  at  that  hour  of  the  night,  was  filled 
with  a  continuous  din  :  animals  and  insects  of 
all  kinds,  and  all  inimical  to  life,  contributing 
their  parts.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  this  turmoil 
of  sound,  I  walked  as  though  my  eyes  were 
bandaged,  beholding  nothing.  The  soil  sank 
under  my  foot,  with  a  horrid,  slippery  consis- 
tence, as  though  I  were  walking  among  toads  ; 
the  touch  of  the  thick  wall  of  foliage,  by  which 
alone  I  guided  myself,  affrighted  me  like  the 
touch  of  serpents  ;  the  darkness  checked  my 
breathing  like  a  gag  ;  indeed,  I  have  never  suf- 
fered such  extremes  of  fear  as  during  that  noc- 
turnal walk,  nor  have  I  ever  known  a  more  sen- 
sible relief  than  when  I  found  the  path  begin- 
ning to  mount  and  to  grow  firmer  under  foot, 
and  saw,  although  still  some  way  in  front  of 
me,  the  silver  brightness  of  the  moon. 

Presently,  I  had  crossed  the  last  of  the  jungle, 
and  come  forth  amongst  noble  and  lofty  woods, 
clean  rock,  the  clean,  dry  dust,  the  aromatic 
smell  of  mountain  plants  that  had  been  baked 
all  day  in  sunlight,  and  the  expressive  silence 
of  the  night.  My  negro  blood  had  carried  me 
unhurt  across  that  reeking  and  pestiferous 
morass ;  by  mere  good  fortune,  I  had  escaped 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  257 

the  crawling  and  stinging  vermin  with  which  it 
was  alive  ;  and  I  had  now  before  me  the  easier 
portion  of  my  enterprise,  to  cross  the  isle  and 
to  make  good  my  arrival  at  the  haven  and  my 
acceptance  on  the  English  yacht.  It  was  im- 
possible by  night  to  follow  such  a  track  as  my 
father  had  described  ;  and  I  was  casting  about 
for  any  landmark,  and,  in  my  ignorance,  vainly 
consulting  the  disposition  of  the  stars,  when 
there  fell  upon  my  ear,  from  somewhere  far  in 
front,  the  sound  of  many  voices  hurriedly 
singing. 

I  scarce  knew  upon  what  grounds  I  acted ; 
but  I  shaped  my  steps  in  the  direction  of  that 
sound  ;  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  walking, 
came  unperceived  to  the  margin  of  an  open 
glade.  It  was  lighted  by  the  strong  moon  and 
by  the  flames  of  a  fire.  In  the  midst,  there 
stood  a  little  low  and  rude  building,  surmounted 
by  a  cross  :  a  chapel,  as  I  then  remembered  to 
have  heard,  long  since  desecrated  and  given  over 
to  the  rites  of  Hoodoo.  Hard  by  the  steps  of 
entrance  was  a  black  mass,  continually  agitated 
and  stirring  to  and  fro  as  if  with  inarticulate 
life  ;  and  this  I  presently  perceived  to  be  a  heap 
of  cocks,  hares,  dogs  and  other  birds  and  ani- 
mals, still  struggling,  but  helplessly  tethered 
and  cruelly  tossed  one  upon  another.  Both  the 
fire  and  the  chapel  were  surrounded  by  a  ring  of 
kneeling  Africans,  both  men  and  women.    Now 


258  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

they  would  raise  their  palms  half- closed  to 
heaven,  with  a  peculiar,  passionate  gesture  of 
supplication  ;  now  they  would  bow  their  heads 
and  spread  their  hands  before  them  on  the 
ground.  As  the  double  movement  passed  and 
repassed  along  the  line,  the  heads  kept  rising 
and  falling,  like  waves  upon  the  sea  ;  and  still, 
as  if  in  time  to  these  gesticulations,  the  hurried 
chant  continued.  I  stood  spell-bound,  know- 
ing that  my  life  depended  by  a  hair,  knowing 
that  I  had  stumbled  on  a  celebration  of  the  rites 
of  Hoodoo. 

Presently,  the  door  of  the  chapel  opened  and 
there  came  forth  a  tall  negro,  entirely  nude, 
and  bearing  in  his  hand  the  sacrificial  knife.  He 
was  followed  by  an  apparition  still  more  strange 
and  shocking :  Madam  Mendizabal,  naked  also, 
and  carrying  in  both  hands  and  raised  to  the 
level  of  her  face,  an  open  basket  of  wicker.  It 
was  filled  with  coiling  snakes ;  and  these,  as 
she  stood  there  with  the  uplifted  basket,  shot 
through  the  osier  grating  and  curled  about  her 
arms.  At  the  sight  of  this,  the  fervor  of  the 
crowd  seemed  to  swell  suddenly  higher ;  and 
the  chant  rose  in  pitch  and  grew  more  irregular 
in  time  and  accent.  Then,  at  a  sign  from  the 
tall  negro,  where  he  stood,  motionless  and 
smiling,  in  the  moon  and  firelight,  the  singing 
died  away,  and  there  began  the  second  stage  of 
this  barbarous  and  bloody  celebration.     From 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  259 

different  parts  of  the  ring,  one  after  another, 
man  or  woman,  ran  forth  into  the  midst ;  ducked, 
with  that  same  gesture  of  the  thrown-up  hand, 
before  the  priestess  and  her  snakes  ;  and  with 
various  adjurations,  uttered  aloud  the  blackest 
wishes  of  the  heart.  Death  and  disease  were 
the  favors  usually  invoked :  the  death  or  the 
disease  of  enemies  or  rivals  ;  some  calling  down 
these  plagues  upon  the  nearest  of  their  own 
blood,  and  one,  to  whom  I  swear  I  had  been 
never  less  than  kind,  invoking  them  upon  my- 
self. At  each  petition,  the  tall  negro,  still 
smiling,  picked  up  some  bird  or  animal  from 
the  heaving  mass  upon  his  left,  slew  it  with  the 
knife,  and  tossed  its  body  on  the  ground.  At 
length,  it  seemed,  it  reached  the  turn  of  the 
high-priestess.  She  sat  down  the  basket  on 
the  steps,  moved  into  the  center  of  the  ring, 
groveled  in  the  dust  before  the  reptiles,  and 
still  groveling  lifted  up  her  voice,  between 
speech  and  singing,  and  with  so  great,  with  so 
insane  fervor  of  excitement,  as  struck  a  sort  of 
horror  through  my  blood. 

"Power,"  she  began,  "whose  name  we  do 
not  utter  ;  power  that  is  neither  good  nor  evil, 
but  below  them  both  ;  stronger  than  good, 
greater  than  evil — all  my  life  long  I  have  adored 
and  served  thee.  Who  has  shed  blood  upon 
thine  altars  %  whose  voice  is  broken  with  the 
singing  of  thy  praises  %   Avhose  limbs  are  faint 


260  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

before  their  age  with  leaping  in  thy  revels  \ 
Who  has  slain  the  child  of  her  body  ?  I,"  she 
cried,  ' '  I,  Metamnbogu  !  By  my  own  name,  I 
name  myself.  I  tear  away  the  veil.  I  would 
be  served  or  perish.  Hear  me,  slime  of  the  fat 
swamp,  blackness  of  the  thunder,  venom  of  the 
serpent's  udder — hear  or  slay  me!  I  would 
have  two  things,  O  shapeless  one,  O  horror  of 
emptiness — two  things,  or  die  !  The  blood  of 
my  white-faced  husband  ;  oh  !  give  me  that ; 
he  is  the  enemy  of  Hoodoo  ;  give  me  his  blood  ! 
And  yet  another,  O  racer  of  the  blind  winds,  O 
germinator  in  the  ruins  of  the  dead,  0  root  of 
life,  root  of  corruption !  I  grow  old,  I  grow 
hideous  ;  I  am  known,  I  am  hunted  for  my 
life :  let  thy  servant  then  lay  by  this  outworn 
body  ;  let  thy  chief  priestess  turn  again  to  the 
blossom  of  her  days,  and  be  a  girl  once  more, 
and  the  desired  of  all  men,  even  as  in  the  past! 
And,  O  lord  and  master,  as  I  here  ask  a  marvel 
not  yet  wrought  since  we  were  torn  from  the 
old  land,  have  I  not  prepared  the  sacrifice  in 
which  thy  soul  delighteth — the  kid  without  the 
horns \ ' ' 

Even  as  she  uttered  the  words,  there  was  a 
great  rumor  of  joy  through  all  the  circle  of  the 
worshipers  ;  it  rose,  and  fell,  and  rose  again ; 
and  swelled  at  last  into  rapture,  when  the  tall 
negro,  who  had  stepped  an  instant  into  the 
chapel,  reappeared  before  the  door,  currying  in 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  261 

his  arms  the  body  of  the  slave-girl,  Cora.  I 
know  not  if  I  saw  what  followed.  When  next 
my  mind  awoke  to  a  clear  knowledge,  Cora 
was  laid  npon  the  steps  before  the  serpents  ; 
the  negro  with  the  knife  stood  over  her ;  the 
knife  rose,  and  at  this  I  screamed  ont  in  my 
great  horror,  bidding  them,  in  God' s  name,  to 
pause. 

A  stillness  fell  upon  the  mob  of  cannibals. 
A  moment  more,  and  they  must  have  thrown 
off  this  stupor,  and  I  infallibly  have  perished. 
But  heaven  had  designed  to  save  me.  The  si- 
lence of  these  wretched  men  was  not  yet  broken, 
when  there  arose,  in  the  empty  night,  a  sound 
louder  than  the  roar  of  any  European  tempest, 
swifter  to  travel  than  the  wings  of  any  Eastern 
wind.  Blackness  ingulfed  the  world :  black- 
ness, stabbed  across  from  every  side  by  intri- 
cate and  blinding  lightning.  Almost  in  the 
same  second,  at  one  world-swallowing  stride, 
the  heart  of  the  tornado  reached  the  clearing. 
I  heard  an  agonizing  crash,  and  the  light  of  my 
reason  was  overwhelmed. 

When  I  recovered  consciousness,  the  day  was 
come.  I  was  unhurt ;  the  trees  close  about  me 
had  not  lost  a  bough  ;  and  I  might  have 
thought  at  first  that  the  tornado  was  a  feature 
in  a  dream.  It  was  otherwise  indeed  ;  for 
when  I  looked  abroad,  I  perceived  I  had 
escaped    destruction    by    a    hand's  -  breadth. 


2G2  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

Right  through  the  forest,  which  here  covered 
hill  and  dale,  the  storm  had  plowed  a  lane 
of  ruin.  On  either  hand,  the  trees  waved  un- 
injured in  the  air  of  the  morning  ;  but  in  the 
forthright  course  of  its  advance,  the  hurricane 
had  left  no  trophy  standing.  Every  thing,  in 
that  line,  tree,  man  or  animal,  the  desecrated 
chapel  and  the  votaries  of  Hoodoo,  had  been 
subverted  and  destroyed  in  that  brief  spasm  of 
anger  of  the  powers  of  air.  Every  thing,  but  a 
yard  or  two  beyond  the  line  of  its  passage, 
humble  flower,  lofty  tree,  and  the  poor  vulner- 
able maid  who  now  kneeled  to  pay  her  grati- 
tude to  heaven,  awoke  unharmed  in  the  crystal 
purity  and  peace  of  the  new  day. 

To  move  by  the  path  of  the  tornado  was  a 
thing  impossible  to  man,  so  wildly  were  the 
wrecks  of  the  tall  forest  piled  together  by  that 
fugitive  convulsion.  I  crossed  it  indeed  ;  with 
such  labor  and  patience,  with  so  many  dan- 
gerous slips  and  falls,  as  left  me,  at  the  further 
side,  bankrupt  alike  of  strength  and  courage. 
There  I  sat  down  awhile  to  recruit  my  forces  ; 
and  as  I  ate  (how  should  I  bless  the  kindliness 
of  heaven  !)  my  eyes,  flitting  to  and  fro  in  the 
colonnade  of  the  great  trees,  alighted  on  a 
trunk  that  had  been  blazed.  Yes,  by  the 
directing  hand  of  providence,  I  had  been  con- 
ducted to  the  very  track  I  was  to  follow.  With 
what  a  light  heart  I  now   set  forth,  and  walk- 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  263 

ing  with  how  glad  a  step,  traversed  the  up- 
lands of  the  isle ! 

It  was  hard  upon  the  hour  of  noon  when  I 
came,  all  tattered  and  wayworn,  to  the  summit 
of  a  steep  descent,  and  looked  below  me  on  the 
sea.  About  all  the  coast,  the  surf,  roused  by 
the  tornado  of  the  night,  beat  with  a  particular 
fury  and  made  a  fringe  of  snow.  Close  at  my 
feet,  I  saw  a  haven,  set  in  precipitous  and  palm - 
crowned  bluffs  of  rock.  Just  outside,  a  ship 
was  heaving  on  the  surge,  so  trimly  sparred,  so 
glossily  painted,  so  elegant  and  point-device  in 
every  feature,  that  my  heart  was  seized  with 
admiration.  The  English  colors  blew  from  her 
masthead  ;  and  from  my  high  station,  I  caught 
glimpses  of  her  snowy  planking,  as  she  rolled 
on  the  uneven  deep,  and  saw  the  sun  glitter  on 
the  brass  of  her  deck  furniture.  There,  then, 
was  my  ship  of  refuge  ;  and  of  all  my  difficul- 
ties only  one  remained  :  to  get  on  board  of 
her. 

Half  an  hour  later,  I  issued  at  last  out  of  the 
woods  on  the  margin  of  a  cove,  into  whose  jaws 
the  tossing  and  blue  billows  entered,  and  along 
whose  shores  they  broke  with  a  surprising 
loudness.  A  wooded  promontory  hid  the 
yacht ;  and  I  had  walked  some  distance  round 
the  beach,  in  what  appeared  to  be  a  virgin  soli- 
tude, when  my  eye  fell  on  a  boat,  drawn  into  a 
natural  harbor,  where  it  rocked  in  safety,  but 


264  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

deserted.  I  looked  about  for  those  who  should 
have  manned  her  ;  and  presently,  in  the  imme- 
diate entrance  of  the  wood,  spied  the  red 
embers  of  a  fire  and,  stretched  around  in 
various  attitudes,  a  party  of  slumbering  marin- 
ers. To  these  I  drew  near :  most  were  black,  a 
few  white ;  but  all  were  dressed  with  the  con- 
spicuous decency  of  yachtsmen  ;  and  one,  from 
his  peaked  cap  and  glittering  buttons,  I  rightly 
divined  to  be  an  officer.  Him,  then,  I  touched 
upon  the  shoulder.  He  started  up  ;  the  sharp- 
ness of  his  movement  woke  the  rest ;  and  they 
all  stared  upon  me  in  surprise. 

"  What  do  you  want?"  inquired  the  officer. 

"  To  go  on  board  the  yacht,"  I  answered. 

I  thought  they  all  seemed  disconcerted  at  this; 
and  the  officer,  with  something  of  sharpness, 
asked  me  who  I  was.  Now  I  had  determined 
to  conceal  my  name  until  I  met  Sir  George ; 
and  the  first  name  that  rose  to  my  lips  was  that 
of  SeTiora  Mendizabal.  At  the  word,  there  went 
a  shock  about  the  little  party  of  seamen  ;  the 
negroes  stared  at  me  with  indescribable  eager- 
ness, the  whites  themselves  with  something 
of  a  scared  surprise  ;  and  instantly  the  spirit 
of  mischief  prompted  me  to  add:  "And 
if  the  name  is  new  to  your  ears,  call  me 
Metamnbobu." 

I  had  never  seen  an  effect  so  wonderful.  The 
negroes  threw  their  hands  into  the  air,  with  the 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  265 

same  gesture  I  remarked  the  night  before  about 
the  Hoodoo  camp-fire ;  first  one,  and  then 
another,  ran  forward  and  kneeled  down  and 
kissed  the  skirts  of  my  torn  dress  ;  and  when 
the  white  officer  broke  out  swearing  and  call- 
ing to  know  if  they  were  mad,  the  colored  sea- 
men took  him  by  the  shoulders,  dragged  him 
on  one  side  till  they  were  out  of  hearing,  and 
surrounded  him  with  open  mouths  and  extrava- 
gant pantomime.  The  officer  seemed  to  strug- 
gle hard  ;  he  laughed  aloud,  and  I  saw  him 
make  gestures  of  dissent  and  protest ;  but  in 
the  end,  whether  overcome  by  reason  or  simply 
weary  of  resistance,  he  gave  in — approached  me 
civilly  enough,  but  with  something  of  a  sneer- 
ing manner  underneath — and  touching  his  cap, 
"  My  lady,"  said  he,  "  if  that  is  what  you  are, 
the  boat  is  ready." 

My  reception  on  board  the  "Nemorosa"  (for 
so  the  yacht  was  named)  partook  of  the  same 
mingled  nature.  We  were  scarcely  within  hail  of 
that  great  and  elegant  fabric,  where  she  lay  roll- 
ing gunwale  under  and  churning  the  blue  sea  to 
snow,  before  the  bulwarks  were  lined  with  the 
heads  of  a  great  crowd  of  seamen,  black,  white 
and  yellow  ;  and  these  and  the  few  who  man- 
ned the  boat  began  exchanging  shouts  in  some 
lingua  franca  incomprehensible  to  me.  All 
eyes  were  directed  on  the  passenger,  and  once 
more  I  saw  the  negroes  toss  up  their  hands  to 


266  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

heaven,  but  now  as  if  with  passionate  wonder 
and  delight. 

At  the  head  of  the  gangway  I  was  received 
by  another  officer,  a  gentlemanly  man  with 
blonde  and  bushy  whiskers,  and  to  whom  I  ad- 
dressed him  my  demand  to  see  Sir  George. 

"But  this  is  not "  he  cried,  and  paused. 

"  I  know  it,"  returned  the  other  officer,  who 
had  brought  me  from  the  shore.  "  But  what 
the  devil  can  we  do  \  Look  at  all  the  nig- 
gers ! ' ' 

I  followed  his  direction ;  and  as  my  eye 
lighted  upon  each,  the  poor  ignorant  Africans 
ducked  and  bowed  and  threw  their  hands  into 
the  air,  as  though  in  the  presence  of  a  creature 
half  divine.  Apparently  the  officer  with  the 
whiskers  had  instantly  come  round  to  the  opin- 
ion of  his  subaltern,  for  he  now  addressed  me 
with  every  signal  of  respect. 

"  Sir  George  is  at  the  island,  my  lady,"  said 
he,  "for  which,  with  your  ladyship's  permis- 
sion, I  shall  immediately  make  all  sail.  The 
cabins  are  prepared.  Steward,  take  Lady  Gre- 
ville  below. 

Under  this  new  name,  then,  and  so  captivated 
by  surprise  that  I  could  neither  think  nor 
speak,  I  was  ushered  into  a  spacious  and  airy 
cabin,  hung  about  with  weapons  and  sur- 
rounded by  divans.  The  steward  asked  for 
my  commands,   but    I    was  by  this  time  so 


I 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN-.  267 

wearied,  bewildered  and  disturbed  that  I  could 
only  wave  him  to  leave  me  to  myself  and  sink 
upon  a  pile  of  cushions.  Presently,  by  the 
changed  motion  of  the  ship,  I  knew  her  to  be 
under  way  ;  my  thoughts,  so  far  from  clarify- 
ing, grew  the  more  distracted  and  confused ; 
dreams  began  to  mingle  and  confound  them, 
and  at  length,  by  insensible  transition,  I  sank 
into  a  dreamless  slumber. 

When  I  awoke  the  day  and  night  had  passed, 
and  it  was  once  more  morning.  The  world  on 
which  I  reopened  my  eyes  swam  strangely  up 
and  down  ;  the  jewels  in  the  bag  that  lay  be- 
side me  chinked  together  ceaselessly ;  the 
clock  and  the  barometer  wagged  to  and  fro 
like  pendulums,  and  overhead  seamen  were 
singing  out  at  their  work,  and  coils  of  rope 
clattering  and  thumping  on  the  deck.  Yet  it 
was  long  before  I  had  divined  that  I  was  at 
sea ;  long  before  I  had  recalled,  one  after 
another,  the  tragical,  mysterious  and  inexplic- 
able events  that  had  brought  me  where  I  was. 

When  I  had  done  so,  I  thrust  the  jewels, 
which  I  was  surprised  to  find  had  been  respect- 
ed, into  the  bosom  of  my  dress,  and  seeing  a 
silver  bell  hard  by  upon  a  table,  rang  it  loudly. 
The  steward  instantly  appeared ;  I  asked  for 
food,  and  he  proceeded  to  lay  the  table,  re- 
garding me  the  while  with  a  disquieting  and 
pertinacious  scrutiny.      To  relieve  myself  of 


268  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

my  embarrassment,  I  asked  him,  with  as  fair  a 
show  of  ease  as  I  could  muster,  if  it  were  usual 
for  yachts  to  carry  so  numerous  a  crew  ? 

"Madam,"  said  he,  "I  know  not  who  you 
are,  nor  what  mad  fancy  has  induced  you  to 
usurp  a  name  and  an  appalling  destiny  that  are 
not  yours.  I  warn  you  from  the  soul.  No 
sooner  arrived  at  the  island ' ' 

At  this  moment  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
whiskered  officer,  who  had  entered  unperceived 
behind  him,  and  now  laid  a  hand  upon  his 
shoulder.  The  sudden  pallor,  the  deadly  and 
sick  fear  that  was  imprinted  on  the  steward's 
face,  formed  a  startling  addition  to  his  words. 

"Parker!"  said  the  officer,  and  pointed 
towards  the  door. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Kentish,"  said  the  steward. 
"  For  God's  sake,  Mr.  Kentish  !"  and  vanished 
with  a  white  face  from  the  cabin. 

Thereupon  the  officer  bade  me  sit  down,  and 
began  to  help  me,  and  join  in  the  meal.  "I 
fill  your  ladyship's  glass,"  said  he,  and  handed 
me  a  tumbler  of  neat  rum. 

"  Sir,"  cried  I,  "  do  you  expect  me  to  drink 
this?" 

He  laughed  heartily.  "  Your  ladyship  is  so 
much  changed,"  said  he,  "that  I  no  longer  ex- 
pect any  one  thing  more  than  any  other. ' ' 

Immediately  after,  a  white  seaman  entered 
the  cabin,  saluted  both  Mr.  Kentish  and  my- 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  269 

self,  and  informed  the  officer  there  was  a  sail 
in  sight,  which  was  bound  to  pass  11s  very  close, 
and  that  Mr.  Harland  was  in  doubt  about  the 
colors. 

"  Being  so  near  the  island?"  asked  Mr. 
Kentish. 

"That  was  what  Mr.  Harland  said,  sir," 
returned  the  sailor,  with  a  scrape. 

"Better  not,  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Kentish. 
"My  compliments  to  Mr.  Harland  ;  and  if  she 
seem  a  lively  boat,  give  her  the  stars  and 
stripes  ;  but  if  she  be  dull,  and  we  can  easily 
outsail  her,  show  John  Dutchman.  That  is 
always  another  word  for  incivility  at  sea  ;  so 
we  can  disregard  a  hail  or  a  flag  of  distress, 
without  attracting  notice." 

As  soon  as  the  sailor  had  gone  on  deck,  I 
turned  to  the  officer  in  wonder.  "  Mr.  Kentish, 
if  that  be  your  name,"  said  I,  "are  you 
ashamed  of  your  own  colors  %  " 

' '  Your  ladyship  refers  to  the  '  Jolly  Roger '  \ " 
he  inquired,  with  perfect  gravity  ;  and  imme- 
diately after,  went  into  peals  of  laughter.  ' '  Par- 
don me,"  said  he  ;  "but  here  for  the  first  time, 
I  recognize  your  ladyship's  impetuosity." 
Nor,  try  as  I  pleased,  could  I  extract  from  him 
any  explanation  of  this  mystery,  but  only  oily 
and  commonplace  evasion. 

While  we  were  thus  occupied,  the  movement 
of  the    "Nemorosa"  gradually    became    less 


270  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

violent ;  its  speed  at  the  same  time  diminished  : 
and  presently  after,  with  a  sullen  plunge,  the 
anchor  was  discharged  into  the  sea.  Kentish 
immediately  rose,  offered  his  arm  and  conducted 
me  on  deck ;  where  I  found  we  were  lying 
in  a  roadstead  among  many  low  and  rocky 
islets,  hovered  about  by  an  innumerable  cloud 
of  sea-fowl.  Immediately  under  our  board,  a 
somewhat  larger  isle  was  green  with  trees,  set 
with  a  few  low  buildings  and  approached  by  a 
pier  of  very  crazy  workmanship  ;  and  a  little 
inshore  of  us,  a  smaller  vessel  lay  at  anchor. 

I  had  scarce  time  to  glance  to  the  four  quar- 
ters, ere  a  boat  was  lowered.  I  was  handed  in, 
Kentish  took  place  beside  me,  and  we  pulled 
briskly  to  the  pier.  A  crowd  of  villainous, 
armed  loiterers,  both  black  and  white,  looked 
on  upon  our  landing  ;  and  again  the  word  passed 
about  among  the  negroes,  and  again  I  was  received 
with  prostrations  and  the  same  gesture  of  the 
flung-up  hand.  By  this,  what  with  the  appear- 
ance of  these  men  and  the  lawless,  sea-girt  spot 
in  which  I  found  myself,  my  courage  began  a 
little  to  decline,  and  clinging  to  the  arm  of  Mr. 
Kentish,  I  begged  him  to  tell  me  what  it  meant  % 

"Nay,  madam,"  he  returned,  "  you  know." 
And  leading  me  smartly  through  the  crowd, 
which  continued  to  follow  at  a  considerable 
distance,  and  at  which  he  still  kept  looking 
back,  I  thought,  with  apprehension,  he  brought 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  271 

me  to  a  low  house  that  stood  alone  in  an  en- 
cumbered yard,  opened  the  door,  and  begged 
me  to  enter. 

"  But  why?  "  said  I.  "  I  demanded  to  see 
Sir  George." 

"Madam,"  returned  Mr.  Kentish,  looking 
suddenly  as  black  as  thunder,  "to  drop  all 
fence,  I  know  neither  who  nor  what  you  are  ;  be- 
yond the  fact  that  you  are  not  the  person 
whose  name  you  have  assumed.  But  be  what 
you  please,  spy,  ghost,  devil  or  most  ill-judging 
jester,  if  you  do  not  immediately  enter  thai 
house,  I  will  cut  you  to  the  earth."  And  even 
as  he  spoke,  he  threw  an  uneasy  glance  behind 
him  at  the  following  crowd  of  blacks. 

I  did  not  wait  to  be  twice  threatened  ;  I 
obeyed  at  once  and  with  a  palpitating  heart ; 
and  the  next  moment,  the  door  was  locked  from 
outside  and  the  key  withdrawn.  The  interior 
was  long,  low  and  quite  unfurnished,  but  filled, 
almost  from  end  to  end,  with  sugar-cane,  tar 
barrels,  old  tarry  rope,  and  other  incongruous 
and  highly  inflammable  material ;  and  not  only 
was  the  door  locked,  but  the  solitary  window 
barred  with  iron. 

I  was  by  this  time  so  exceedingly  bewildered 
and  afraid,  that  I  would  have  given  years  of 
my  life  to  be  once  more  the  slave  of  Mr.  Caul- 
der.  I  still  stood,  with  my  hands  clasped,  the 
image  of  despair,    looking  about  me  on  the 


272  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

lumber  room  or  raising  my  eyes  to  heaven  ; 
when  there  appeared  outside  the  window  bars, 
the  face  of  a  very  black  negro,  who  signed  to 
me  imperiously  to  draw  near.  I  did  so,  and 
he  instantly,  and  with  every  mark  of  fervor, 
addressed  me  a  long  speech  in  some  unknown 
and  barbarous  tongue. 

"  I  declare,"  I  cried,  clasping  my  brow,  "  I 
do  not  understand  one  syllable." 

"  Not  \  •"  he  said  in  Spanish.  "  Great,  great, 
are  the  powers  of  Hoodoo  !  Her  very  mind  is 
changed !  But  O  chief  priestess,  why  have 
you  suffered  yourself  to  be  shut  into  this  cage  % 
why  did  you  not  call  your  slaves  at  once  to 
your  defense  ?  Do  you  not  see  that  all  has  been 
prepared  to  murder  you  ?  at  a  spark,  this  flimsy 
house  will  go  in  flames  ;  and  alas !  who  shall 
then  be  the  chief  priestess  ?  and  what  shall  be 
the  profit  of  the  miracle  ? " 

"Heavens!"  cried  I,  "can  1  not  see  Sir 
George  \  I  must,  I  must,  come  by  speech  of  him. 
Oh  bring  me  to  Sir  George  ! "  And,  my  terror 
fairly  mastering  my  courage,  I  fell  upon  my 
knees  and  began  to  pray  to  all  the  saints. 

"Lordy!"  cried  the  negro,  "here  they 
come!"  And  his  black  head  was  instantly 
withdrawn  from  the  window. 

"  I  never  heard  such  nonsense  in  my  life," 
exclaimed  a  voice. 

"Why,  so  we  all  say,  Sir  George,"  replied 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  273 

the  voice  of  Mr.  Kentish.  "  But  put  yourself 
in  our  place.  The  niggers  were  near  two  to  one. 
And  upon  my  word,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  sir, 
considering  the  notion  they  have  taken  in  their 
heads,  I  regard  it  as  precious  fortunate  for  all 
of  us  that  the  mistake  occurred." 

"This  is  no  question  of  fortune,  sir,"  re- 
turned Sir  George.  "It  is  a  question  of  my 
orders,  and  you  may  take  my  word  for  it, 
Kentish,  either  Harland,  or  yourself,  or  Parker 
—or,  by  George,  all  three  of  you  !— shall  swing 
for  this  affair.  These  are  my  sentiments.  Give 
me  the  key  and  be  off." 

Immediately  after,  the  key  turned  in  the 
lock ;  and  there  appeared  upon  the  threshold 
a  gentleman,  between  forty  and  fifty,  with  a 
very  open  countenance  and  of  a  stout  and  per- 
sonable figure. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  said  he,  "  who  the 
devil  may  you  be  ? " 

I  told  him  my  story  in  a  rush  of  words.  He 
heard  me,  from  the  first,  with  an  amazement 
you  can  scarcely  picture,  but  when  I  came  to 
the  death  of  the  Senora  Mendizabal  in  the  tor- 
nado, he  fairly  leaped  into  the  air. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  cried,  clasping  me  in 
his  arms,  "excuse  a  man  who  might  be  your 
father  !  This  is  the  best  news  I  have  heard 
since  I  was  born  ;  for  that  hag  of  a  mulatto 
was  no  less  a  person  than  my  wife."     He  sat 


274  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

down  upon  a  tar-barrel,  as  if  unmanned  by 
joy.  "Dear  me,"  said  lie,  "I  declare  this 
tempts  me  to  believe  in  Providence.  And 
what,"  he  added,  "  can  I  do  for  you  \ " 

"Sir  George,"  said  I,  "  I  am  already  rich  : 
all  that  I  ask  is  your  protection." 

"Understand  one  thing,"  he  said,  with  great 
energy  :   "  I  will  never  marry." 

"I  had  not  ventured  to  propose  it,"  I  ex- 
claimed, unable  to  restrain  my  mirth  ;  "  I  only 
seek  to  be  conveyed  to  England,  the  natural 
home  of  the  escaped  slave." 

"Well,"  returned  Sir  George,  "frankly  I 
owe  you  one  for  this  exhilarating  news ;  be- 
sides, your  father  was  of  use  to  me.  lSTow,  I 
have  made  up  a  small  competence  in  business 
— a  jewel  mine,  a  sort  of  naval  agency,  et  cete- 
ra, and  I  am  on  the  point  of  breaking  up  my 
company,  and  retiring  to  my  place  in  Devon- 
shire to  pass  a  plain  old  age,  unmarried.  One 
good  turn  deserves  another :  if  you  swear  to 
hold  your  tongue  about  this  island,  these  little 
bonfire  arrangements,  and  the  whole  episode  of 
my  unfortunate  marriage,  why,  Til  carry  you 
home  aboard  the  'Nemorosa.'  " 

I  eagerly  accepted  his  conditions. 

"  One  thing  more,"  said  he.  'l  My  late  wife 
was  some  sort  of  a  sorceress  among  the  blacks  ; 
and  they  are  all  persuaded  she  has  come  alive 
again  in  your  agreeable  person.     Now,  you  will 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  275 

have  the  goodness  to  keep  up  that  fancy,  if  you 
please  ;  and  to  swear  to  them,  on  the  authority 
of  Hoodoo 'or  whatever  his  name  may  be,  that 
I  am  from  this  moment  quite  a  sacred  charac- 
ter. » 

' '  I  swear  it, ' '  said  I, "  by  my  father1  s  memory; 
and  that  is  a  vow  that  I  will  never  break." 

"  I  have  considerably  better  hold  on  you  than 
any  oath,"  returned  Sir  George,  with  a  chuckle; 
' '  for  you  are  not  only  an  escaped  slave,  but 
have,  by  your  own  account,  a  considerable 
amount  of  stolen  property." 

I  was  struck  dumb  ;  I  saw  it  was  too  true  ;  in 
a  glance,  I  recognized  that  these  jewels  were 
no  longer  mine  ;  with  similar  quickness,  I 
decided  they  should  be  restored,  ay,  if  it  cost 
me  the  liberty  that  I  had  just  regained.  For- 
getful of  all  else,  forgetful  of  Sir  George,  who 
sat  and  watched  me  with  a  smile,  I  drew  out 
Mr.  Caulder'  s  pocket-book  and  turned  to  the 
page  on  which  the  dying  man  had  scrawled  his 
testament.  How  shall  I  describe  the  agony  of 
happiness  and  remorse,  with  wdiich  I  read  it ! 
for  my  victim  had  not  only  set  me  free,  but  be- 
queathed to  me  the  bag  of  jewels. 

My  plain  tale  draws  toward  a  close.  Sir 
George  and  I,  in  my  character  of  his  rejuven- 
ated wife,  displayed  ourselves  arm-in-arm 
among  the  negroes,  and  were  cheered  and  fol- 
lowed to  the  place  of  embarkation.     There, 


276  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

Sir  George,  turning  about,  made  a  speech  to  his 
old  companions,  in  which  he  thanked  and  bade 
them  farewell  with  a  very  manly  spirit ;  and 
toward  the  end  of  which,  he  fell  on  some  ex- 
pressions which  I  still  remember.  ' '  If  any  of 
you  gentry  lose  your  money,"  he  said,  "  take 
care  you  do  not  come  to  me  ;  for  in  the  first, 
place,  I  shall  do  my  best  to  have  you  mur- 
dered ;  and  if  that  fails,  I  hand  you  over  to 
the  law.  Blackmail  won't  do  for  me.  I'll 
rather  risk  all  upon  a  cast,  than  be  pulled  to 
pieces  by  degrees.  I'll  rather  be  found  out  and 
hang,  than  give  a  doit  to  one  man- jack  of  you." 
That  same  night  we  got  under  way  and  crossed 
to  the  port  of  New  Orleans,  whence,  as  a  sacred 
trust,  I  sent  the  pocket-book  to  Mr.  Caulder'  s 
son.  In  a  week' s  time,  the  men  were  all  paid 
off;  new  hands  were  shipped;  and  the  "  Ne- 
morosa"  weighed  her  anchor  for  Old  England. 
A  more  delightful  voyage  it  were  hard  to 
fancy.  Sir  George,  of  course,  was  not  a  con- 
scientious man ;  but  he  had  an  unaffected 
gayety  of  character  that  naturally  endeared  him 
to  the  young ;  and  it  was  interesting  to  hear 
him  lay  out  his  projects  for  the  future,  when  he 
should  be  returned  to  parliament,  and  place  at 
the  service  of  the  nation,  his  experience  of 
marine  affairs.  I  asked  him,  if  his  notion  of 
piracy  upon  a  private  yacht  were  not  original. 
But  he  told  me,  no.  "  A  yacht,  Miss  Yaldevia," 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  277 

lie  observed,  ' '  is  a  chartered  nuisance.  Who 
smuggles  ?  Who  robs  the  salmon  rivers  of  the 
west  of  Scotland?  Who  cruelly  beats  the 
keepers  if  they  dare  to  intervene  %  The  crews 
and  the  proprietors  of  yachts.  All  I  have  done 
is  to  extend  the  line  a  trifle  ;  and  if  you  ask  me 
for  my  unbiased  opinion,  I  do  not  suppose  that 
I  am  in  the  least  alone." 

In  short  we  were  the  best  of  friends,  and  lived 
like  father  and  daughter ;  though  I  still  with- 
held from  him,  of  course,  that  respect  which  is 
only  due  to  moral  excellence. 

We  were  still  some  days'  sail  from  England, 
when  Sir  George  obtained,  from  an  outward- 
bound  ship,  a  packet  of  newspapers  ;  and  from 
that  fatal  hour  my  misfortunes  recommenced. 
He  sat,  the  same  evening,  in  the  cabin,  reading 
the  news,  and  making  savory  comments  on  the 
decline  of  England  and  the  poor  condition  of 
the  navy  ;  when  I  suddenly  observed  him  to 
change  countenance. 

"Hullo!"  said  he,  "this  is  bad;  this  is 
deuced  bad,  Miss  Valdevia.  You  would  not 
listen  to  sound  sense,  you  would  send  that 
pocket-book  to  that  man  Caulder's  son." 

"  Sir  George,"  said  I,  "it  was  my  duty." 

"You  are  prettily  paid  for  it,  at  least,"  says 
he  ;  "  and  much  as  I  regret  it,  I,  for  one,  am 
done  with  you.  This  fellow  Caulder  demands 
your  extradition." 


278  THE  FAIR  CUBAN. 

"  But  a  slave,"  I  returned,  uis  safe  in  En- 
gland. " 

"Yes,  by  George!"  replied  the  baronet; 
"  but  it's  not  a  slave,  Miss  Valdevia,  it's  a  thief 
that  he  demands.  He  has  quietly  destroyed 
the  will ;  and  now  accuses  you  of  robbing  your 
fathers  bankrupt  estate  of  jewels  to  the  value 
of  a  hundred  thousand  pounds." 

I  was  so  much  overcome  by  indignation  at 
this  hateful  charge  and  concern  for  my  unhappy 
fate  that  the  genial  baronet  made  haste  to  put 
me  more  at  ease. 

' '  Do  not  be  cast  down,"  said  he.  '  •  Of  course, 
I  wash  my  hands  of  you,  myself.  A  man  in 
my  position — baronet,  old  family,  and  all  that 
— can  not  possibly  be  too  particular  about  the 
company  he  keeps.  But  I  am  a  deuced  good- 
humored  old  boy,  let  me  tell  you,  when  not 
ruffled,  and  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  to  put  you 
right.  I  will  lend  you  a  trifle  of  ready  money, 
give  you  the  address  of  an  excellent  lawyer  in 
London,  and  find  a  way  to  set  you  on  shore 
unsuspected." 

He  was  in  every  particular  as  good  as  his 
word.  Four  days  later,  the  u^Temorosa" 
sounded  her  way,  under  the  cloak  of  a  dark 
night,  into  a  certain  haven  of  the  coast  of  En- 
gland ;  and  a  boat,  rowing  with  muffled  oars, 
set  me  ashore  upon  the  beach  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  a  railway  station.    Thither,  guided  by 


THE  FAIR  CUBAN.  279 

Sir  George's  directions,  I  groped  a  devious 
way  ;  and  finding  a  bench  upon  the  platform, 
sat  me  down,  wrapped  in  a  man's  fur  great-coat, 
to  await  the  coming  of  the  day.  It  was  still 
dark  when  a  light  was  struck  behind  one  of  the 
windows  of  the  building  ;  nor  had  the  east 
begun  to  kindle  to  the  warmer  colors  of  the 
dawn,  before  a  porter,  carrying  a  lantern,  issued 
from  the  door  and  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  the  unfortunate  Teresa.  He  looked  all 
about  him  ;  in  the  gray  twilight  of  the  dawn, 
the  haven  was  seen  to  lie  deserted,  and  the 
yacht  had  long  since  disappeared. 

"  Who  are  you  V  he  cried. 

"I  am  a  traveler,"  said  I. 

' '  And  where  do  you  come  from  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I  am  going  by  the  first  train,  to  London," 
I  replied. 

In  such  manner,  like  a  ghost  or  a  new  crea- 
tion, was  Teresa  with  her  bag  of  jewels  landed 
on  the  shores  of  England  ;  in  this  silent  fashion, 
without  history  or  name,  she  took  her  place 
among  the  millions  of  a  new  country. 

Since  then,  I  have  lived  by  the  expedients 
of  my  lawyer,  lying  concealed  in  quiet  lodgings, 
dogged  by  the  spies  of  Cuba,  and  not  knowing 
at  what  hour  my  liberty  and  honor  may  be 
lost. 


280  THE  BROWN  BOX. 


THE  BROWN  BOX  {concluded). 

THE  effect  of  this  tale  on  the  mind  of  Harry 
Desborough  was  instant  and  convincing. 
The  Fair  Cuban  had  been  already  the  loveliest, 
she  now  became  in  his  eyes,  the  most  romantic, 
the  most  innocent  and  the  most  unhappy  of  her 
sex.  He  was  bereft  of  words  to  utter  what  he 
felt :  what  pity,  what  admiration,  what  youth- 
ful envy  of  a  career  so  vivid  and  adventurous. 
"  Oh,  madam  !  "  he  began  ;  and  finding  no  lan- 
guage adequate  to  that  apostrophe,  caught  up 
her  hand  and  wrung  it  in  his  own.  ' '  Count 
upon  me,"  he  added,  with  bewildered  fervor  ; 
and  getting  somehow  or  other  out  of  the  apart- 
ment and  from  the  circle  of  that  radiant  sor- 
ceress, he  found  himself  in  the  strange  out-of- 
doors,  beholding  dull  houses,  wondering  at  dull 
passers-by,  a  fallen  angel.  She  had  smiled 
upon  him  as  he  left,  and  with  how  significant, 
how  beautiful  a  smile  !  The  memory  lingered 
in  his  heart ;  and  when  he  found  his  way  to  a 
certain  restaurant  where  music  was  performed, 
flutes  (as  it  were  of  Paradise)  accompanied  his 
meal.  The  strings  went  to  the  melody  of  that 
parting  smile  ;  they  paraphrased  and  glossed  it 
in  the  sense  that  he  desired  ;  and  for  the  first 
time  in  his  plain  and  somewhat  dreary  life,  he 
perceived  himself  to  have  a  taste  for  music. 


THE  BRO  WN  BOX.  281 

The  next  day,  and  the  next,  his  meditations 
moved  to  that  delectable  air.  Now  he  saw  her 
and  was  favored  ;  now  saw  her  not  at  all ;  now 
saw  her  and  was  put  by.  The  fall  of  her  foot 
upon  the  stair  entranced  him  ;  the  books  that 
he  sought  out  and  read,  were  books  on  Cuba 
and  spoke  of  her  indirectly  ;  nay,  and  in  the 
very  landlady' s  parlor,  he  found  one  that  told 
of  precisely  such  a  hurricane,  and,  down  to  the 
smallest  detail,  confirmed  (had  confirmation 
been  required)  the  truth  of  her  recital.  Pres- 
ently he  began  to  fall  into  that  prettiest  mood 
of  a  young  love,  in  which  the  lover  scorns  him- 
self for  his  presumption.  Who  was  he,  the 
dull  one,  the  commonplace  unemployed,  the 
man  without  adventure,  the  impure,  the 
untruthful,  to  aspire  to  such  a  creature  made 
of  fire  and  air,  and  hallowed  and  adorned  by 
such  incomparable  passages  of  life?  What 
should  he  do  to  be  more  worthy  %  By  what 
devotion  call  down  the  notice  of  these  eyes  to 
so  terrene  a  being  as  himself  % 

He  betook  himself,  thereupon,  to  the  rural 
privacy  of  the  square,  where,  being  a  lad  of  a 
kind  heart,  he  had  made  himself  a  circle  of 
acquaintances  among  its  shy  frequenters,  the 
half-domestic  cats  and  the  visitors  that  hung 
before  che  windows  of  the  Children's  Hospital. 
Theie  he  walked,  considering  the  depth  of  his 
demerit  and  the  height  of  the  adored  one's 


282  THE  BRO IV N  BOX. 

super-excellence  ;  now  lighting  npon  earth  to 
say  a  pleasant  word  to  the  brother  of  some 
infant  invalid ;  now,  with  a  great  heave  of 
breath,  remembering  the  queen  of  women,  and 
the  sunshine  of  his  life. 

What  was  he  to  do?  Teresa,  he  had  ob- 
served, was  in  the  habit  of  leaving  the  house 
toward  afternoon  ;  she  might,  perchance,  run 
danger  from  some  Cuban  emissary,  when  the 
presence  of  a  friend  might  turn  the  balance  in 
her  favor  :  how,  then,  if  he  should  follow  her? 
To  offer  his  company  would  seem  like  an 
intrusion  ;  to  dog  her  openly  were  a  manifest 
impertinence  ;  he  saw  himself  reduced  to  a 
more  stealthy  part,  which,  though  in  some 
ways  distasteful  to  his  mind,  he  did  not  doubt 
that  he  could  practice  with  the  skill  of  a  detec- 
tive. 

The  next  day  he  proceeded  to  put  his  plan 
in  action.  At  the  corner  of  Tottenham  Court 
Road,  however,  the  Senorita  suddenly  turned 
back,  and  met  him  face  to  face,  with  every 
mark  of  pleasure  and  surprise. 

"Ah,  Senor,  I  am  sometimes  fortunate!" 
she  cried.  "  I  was  looking  for  a  messenger  ;  " 
and  with  the  sweetest  of  smiles,  she  dispatched 
him  to  the  East  end  of  London,  to  an  address 
which  he  was  unable  to  find.  This  was  a  bit- 
ter pill  to  the  knight-errant ;  but  when  he 
returned  at  night,  worn  out  with  fruitless  wan- 


THE  BRO IV N  BOX.  283 

dering  and  dismayed  by  his  fiasco,  the  lady 
received  him  with  a  friendly  gayety,  protest- 
ing that  all  was  for  the  best,  since  she  had 
changed  her  mind  and  long  since  repented  of 
her  message. 

Next  day  he  resumed  his  labors,  glowing 
with  pity  and  courage,  and  determined  to  pro- 
tect Teresa  with  his  life.  But  a  painful  shock 
awaited  him.  In  the  narrow  and  silent  Han- 
way  Street,  she  turned  suddenly  about  and 
addressed  him  with  a  manner  and  a  light  in  her 
eyes,  that  were  new  to  the  young  man's  expe- 
rience. 

"Do  I  understand  that  you  follow  me, 
Sehor  % ' '  she  cried.  ' '  Are  these  the  manners 
of  the  English  gentleman  ?" 

Harry  confounded  himself  in  the  most 
abject  apologies  and  prayers  to  be  forgiven, 
vowed  to  offend  no  more,  and  was  at  length 
dismissed,  crestfallen  and  heavy  of  heart.  The 
check  was  final ;  he  gave  up  that  road  to 
service ;  and  began  once  more  to  hang  about 
the  square  or  on  the  terrace,  filled  with  remorse 
and  love,  admirable  and  idiotic,  a  fit  object  for 
the  scorn  and  envy  of  older  men.  In  these  idle 
hours,  while  he  was  courting  fortune  for  a 
sight  of  the  beloved,  it  fell  out  naturally  that 
he  should  observe  the  manners  and  appearance 
of  such  as  came  about  the  house.  One  person 
alone  was  the  occasional  visitor  of  the  young 


284  THE  BROWN  BOX. 

lady ;  a  man  of  considerable  stature  and  dis- 
tinguished only  by  the  doubtful  ornament  of  a 
chin-beard  in  the  style  of  an  American  deacon. 
Something  in  his  appearance  grated  upon 
Harry  ;  this  distaste  grew  upon  him  in  the 
course  of  days  ;  and  when  at  length  he  mus- 
tered courage  to  inquire  of  the  Fair  Cuban  who 
this  was,  he  was  yet  more  dismayed  by  her 
reply. 

"That  gentleman,"  said  she,  a  smile  strug- 
gling to  her  face,  ' '  that  gentleman,  I  will  not 
attempt  to  conceal  from  you,  desires  my  hand 
in  marriage,  and  presses  me  with  the  most 
respectful  ardor.  Alas,  what  am  I  to  say  %  I, 
the  forlorn  Teresa,  how  shall  I  refuse  or  accept 
such  protestations?" 

Harry  feared  to  say  more  ;  a  horrid  pang  of 
jealousy  transfixed  him  ;  and  he  had  scarce  the 
strength  of  mind  to  take  his  leave  with  decency. 
In  the  solitude  of  his  own  chamber,  he  gave 
way  to  every  manifestation  of  despair.  He 
passionately  adored  the  Sehorita  ;  but  it  was 
not  only  the  thought  of  her  possible  union  with 
another  that  distressed  his  soul,  it  was  the  in- 
defeasible conviction  that  her  suitor  was  un- 
worthy. To  a  duke,  a  bishop,  a  victorious 
general,  or  any  man  adorned  with  obvious 
qualities,  he  had  resigned  her  with  a  sort  of 
bitter  joy  ;  he  saw  himself  follow  the  wedding 
party  from  a  great  way  off ;   he  saw  himself 


THE  BROWN  BOX.  285 

return  to  the  poor  house,  then  robbed  of  its 
jewel ;  and  while  he  could  have  wept  for  his 
despair,  he  felt  he  could  support  it  nobly.  But 
this  affair  looked  otherwise.  The  man  was 
patently  no  gentleman  ;  he  had  a  startled, 
skulking,  guilty  bearing  ;  his  nails  were  black, 
his  eyes  evasive  ;  his  love  perhaps  was  a  pre- 
text ;  he  was,  perhaps,  under  this  deep  dis- 
guise, a  Cuban  emissary  !  Harry  swore  that 
he  would  satisfy  these  doubts  ;  and  the  next 
evening,  about  the  hour  of  the  usual  visit,  he 
posted  himself  at  a  spot  whence  his  eye  com- 
manded the  three  issues  of  the  square. 

Presently  after,  a  four-wheeler  rumbled  to 
the  door  ;  and  the  man  with  the  chin-beard 
alighted,  paid  off  the  cabman,  and  was  seen  by 
Harry  to  enter  the  house  with  a  brown  box 
hoisted  on  his  back.  Half  an  hour  later,  he 
came  forth  again  without  the  box,  and  struck 
eastward  at  a  rapid  walk  ;  and  Desborough, 
with  the  same  skill  and  caution  that  he  had  dis- 
played in  following  Teresa,  proceeded  to  dog 
the  steps  of  her  admirer.  The  man  began  to 
loiter,  studying  with  apparent  interest  the 
wares  of  the  small  fruiterer  or  tobacconist ; 
twice  he  returned  hurriedly  upon  his  former 
course ;  and  then,  as  though  he  had  suddenly 
conquered  a  moment' s  hesitation,  once  more  set 
forth  with  resolute  and  swift  steps  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Lincoln's  Inn.     At  length,  in  a  deserted 


2%6  THE  BR 0  WN  B OX. 

by-street,  he  turned  ;  and  coming  up  to  Harry 
with  a  countenance  which  seemed  to  have  be- 
come older  and  whiter,  inquired  with  some 
severity  of  speech  if  he  had  not  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  seeing  the  gentleman  before. 

"You  have,  sir,"  said  Harry,  somewhat 
abashed,  but  with  a  good  show  of  stoutness ; 
' '  and  I  will  not  deny  that  I  was  following  you 
on  purpose.  Doubtless,"  he  added,  for  he  sup- 
posed that  all  men's  minds  must  still  be  run- 
ning on  Teresa,    "  you  can  divine  my  reason." 

At  these  words,  the  man  with  the  chin-beard 
was  seized  with  a  palsied  tremor.  He  seemed, 
for  some  seconds,  to  seek  the  utterance  which 
his  fear  denied  him  ;  and  then  whipping  sharply 
about,  he  took  to  his  heels  at  the  most  furious 
speed  of  running. 

Harry  was  at  first  so  taken  aback  that  he  ne- 
glected to  pursue  ;  and  by  the  time  he  had  re- 
covered his  wits,  his  best  expedition  was  only 
rewarded  by  a  glimpse  of  the  man  with  the 
chin-beard  mounting  into  a  hansom,  which  im- 
mediately after  disappeared  into  the  moving 
crowds  of  Holborn. 

Puzzled  and  dismayed  by  this  unusual  be- 
havior, Harry  returned  to  the  house  in  Queen 
Square,  and  ventured  for  the  first  time  to  knock 
at  the  fair  Cuban' s  door.  She  bade  him  enter, 
and  he  found  her  kneeling  with  rather  a  dis- 
consolate air  beside  a  brown  wooden  trunk. 


THE  BROWN  BOX.  287 

"  Senorita,"  he  broke  out,  "  I  doubt  whether 
that  man' s  character  is  what  he  wishes  you  to 
believe.  His  manner,  when  he  found,  and 
indeed  when  I  admitted  that  I  was  follow- 
ing him,  was  not  the  manner  of  an  honest 
man." 

"  Oh  !"  she  cried,  throwing  up  her  hands  as 
in  desperation,  "  Don  Quixote,  Don  Quixote, 
have  you  again  been  tilting  against  windmills  % ' ' 
And  then,  with  a  laugh,  "Poor  soul!"  she 
added,  "how  you  must  have  terrified  him! 
For  know  that  the  Cuban  authorities  are  here, 
and  your  poor  Teresa  may  soon  be  hunted 
down.  Even  yon  humble  clerk  from  my 
solicitor's  office,  may  find  himself  at  any 
moment  the  quarry  of  armed  spies. ' ' 

' '  A  humble  clerk ! ' '  cried  Harry,  ' '  why  you 
told  me  yourself  that  he  wished  to  marry 
you ! ' ' 

"  I  thought  you  English  like  what  you  call  a 
joke, ' '  replied  the  lady,  calmly.  "  As  a  matter 
of  fact  he  is  my  lawyer' s  clerk,  and  has  been 
here  to-night  charged  with  disastrous  news.  I 
am  in  sore  straits,  Sehor  Harry.  Will  you 
help  me?" 

At  this  most  welcomed  word,  the  young 
man' s  heart  exulted  ;  and  in  the  hope,  pride 
and  self-esteem,  that  kindled  with  the  very 
thought  of  service,  he  forgot  to  dwell  upon 
the  lady's  jest.     "Can  you  ask?"  he  cried. 


288  THE  BRO  WN  BOX. 

"  What  is  there  that  I  can  do  %  Only  tell  me 
that." 

With  signs  of  an  emotion  that  was  certainly 
unfeigned,  the  fair  Cuban  laid  her  hand  upon 
the  box.  "This  box,"  she  said,  "  contains  my 
jewels,  papers  and  clothes  ;  all,  in  a  word,  that 
still  connects  me  with  Cuba  and  my  dreadful 
past.  They  must  now  be  smuggled  out  of  En- 
gland ;  or,  by  the  opinion  of  my  lawyer,  I  am 
lost  beyond  remedy.  To-morrow,  on  board 
the  Irish  packet,  a  sure  hand  awaits  the  box  ; 
the  problem  still  unsolved,  is  to  find  some  one 
to  carry  it  as  far  as  Holyhead,  to  see  it  placed 
on  board  the  steamer,  and  instantly  return  to 
town.  Will  you  be  he  \  Will  you  leave  to- 
morrow by  the  first  train,  punctually  obey 
orders,  bear  still  in  mind  that  you  are  sur- 
rounded by  Cuban  spies  ;  and  without  so  much 
as  a  look  behind  you,  or  a  single  movement  to 
betray  your  interest,  leave  the  box  where  you 
have  put  it  and  come  straight  on  shore  %  Will 
you  do  this,  and  so  save  your  friend  ?  " 

"I  do  not  clearly  understand  ..."  began 
Harry. 

"JSTo  more  do  I,"  replied  the  Cuban.  "It 
is  not  necessary  that  we  should,  so  long  as  we 
obey  the  lawyer's  orders." 

"Sehorita,"  returned  Harry,  gravely,  "I 
think  this,  of  course,  a  very  little  thing  to  do 
for  you,  when  I  would  willingly  do  all.     But 


THE  BROWN  BOX.  289 

suffer  me  to  say  one  word.  If  London  is 
unsafe  for  your  treasures,  it  can  not  long  be 
safe  for  you  ;  and  indeed,  if  I  at  all  f atliom  the 
plan  of  your  solicitor,  I  fear  I  may  find  you 
already  fled  on  my  return.  I  am  not  considered 
clever,  and  can  only  speak  out  plainly  what  is 
in  my  heart :  that  I  love  you,  and  that  I  can 
not  bear  to  lose  all  knowledge  of  you.  I  hope 
no  more  than  to  be  your  servant ;  I  ask  no 
more  than  just  that  I  shall  hear  of  you.  Oh, 
promise  me  so  much  ! ' ' 

' 'You  shall,"  she  said,  after  a  pause.  "I 
promise  you,  you  shall."  But  though  she 
spoke  with  earnestness,  the  marks  of  great 
embarrassment  and  a  strong  conflict  of  emotions 
appeared  upon  her  face. 

"I  wish  to  tell  you,"  resumed  Desborough, 
"in  case  of  accidents.  ..." 

"Accidents  !  "  she  cried  ;  "why  do  you  say 
that?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  he,  "you  may  be 
gone  before  my  return,  and  we  may  not  meet 
again  for  long.  And  so  I  wished  you  to  know 
this  :  That  since  the  day  you  gave  me  the 
cigarette,  you  have  never  once,  not  once,  been 
absent  from  my  mind  ;  and  if  it  will  in  any 
way  serve  you,  you  may  crumple  me  up  like 
that  piece  of  paper,  and  throw  me  on  the  fire. 
I  would  love  to  die  for  you." 

"  Go !  "  she  said.     "Go  now  at  once  !    My 


290  THE  BROWN  BOX. 

brain  is  in  a  whirl.  I  scarce  know  what  we 
are  talking.  Go  ;  and  good-night ;  and  oh,  may 
yon  come  safe  ! ' ' 

Once  back  in  his  own  room  a  fearful  joy 
possessed  the  yonng  man's  mind;  and  as  he 
recalled  her  face  struck  suddenly  white  and 
the  broken  utterance  of  her  last  words,  his 
heart  at  once  exulted  and  misgave  him.  Love 
had  indeed  looked  npon  him  with  a  tragic 
mask ;  and  yet  what  mattered,  since  at  least 
it  was  love — since  at  least  she  was  commoved 
at  their  division?  He  got  to  bed  with  these 
parti-colored  thoughts  ;  passed  from  one 
dream  to  another  all  night  long,  the  white 
face  of  Teresa  still  haunting  him,  wrung  with 
unspoken  thoughts  ;  and  in  the  gray  of  the 
dawn,  leaped  suddenly  out  of  bed,  in  a  kind  of 
horror.  It  was  already  time  for  him  to  rise.  He 
dressed,  made  his  breakfast  on  cold  food  that 
had  been  laid  for  him  the  night  before ;  and 
went  down  to  the  room  of  his  idol  for  the 
box.  The  door  was  open  ;  a  strange  disorder 
reigned  within  ;  the  furniture  all  pushed  aside, 
and  the  center  of  the  room  ieft  bare  of  impedi- 
ment, as  though  for  the  pacing  of  a  creature 
with  a  tortured  mind.  There  lay  the  box,  how- 
ever, and  upon  the  lid  a  paper  with  these  words  : 
"Harry,  I  hope  to  be  back  before  you  go. 
Teresa." 

He  sat  down  to  wait,  laying  his  watch  before 


THE  BRO  WN  BOX.  2 9 1 

him  on  the  table.  She  had  called  him  Harry  : 
that  should  be  enough,  he  thought,  to  fill  the 
day  with  sunshine  ;  and  yet  somehow  the  sight 
of  that  disordered  room  still  poisoned  his  en- 
joyment. The  door  of  the  bedchamber  stood 
gaping  open  ;  and  though  he  turned  aside  his 
eyes  as  from  a  sacrilege,  he  could  not  but  ob- 
serve the  bed  had  not  been  slept  in.  He  was 
still  pondering  what  this  should  mean,  still 
trying  to  convince  himself  that  all  was  well, 
when  the  moving  needle  of  his  watch  sum- 
moned him  to  set  forth  without  delay.  He  was 
before  all  things  a  man  of  his  word ;  ran  round 
to  Southampton  Row  to  fetch  a  cab  ;  and  tak- 
ing the  box  on  the  front  seat,  drove  off  toward 
the  terminus. 

The  streets  were  scarcely  awake  ;  there  was 
little  to  amuse  the  eye  ;  and  the  young  man's 
attention  centered  on  the  dumb  companion  of 
his  drive.  A  card  was  nailed  upon  one  side, 
bearing  the  superscription :  "Miss Doolan,  pas- 
senger to  Dublin.  Glass.  With  care."  He 
thought  with  a  sentimental  shock  that  the  fair 
idol  of  his  heart  was  perhaps  driven  to  adopt 
the  name  of  Doolan  ;  and  as  he  still  studied  the 
card,  he  was  aware  of  a  deadly,  black  depres- 
sion settling  steadily  upon  his  spirits.  It  was 
in  vain  for  him  to  contend  against  the  tide  ;  in 
vain  that  he  shook  himself  or  tried  to  whistle  : 
the  sense  of  some  impending  blow  was  not  to 


2  9  *  THE  BRO  WN  B  OX. 

be  averted.  He  looked  out ;  in  the  long,  empty 
streets,  the  cab  pursued  its  way  without  a  trace 
of  any  follower.  He  gave  ear ;  and  over  and 
above  the  jolting  of  the  wheels  upon  the 
road,  he  was  conscious  of  a  certain  regular 
and  quiet  sound  that  seemed  to  issue  from  the 
box.  He  put  his  ear  to  the  cover ;  at  one 
moment,  he  seemed  to  perceive  a  delicate  tick- 
ing :  the  next,  the  sound  was  gone,  nor  could 
his  closest  hearkening  recapture  it.  He  laughed 
at  himself  ;  but  still  the  gloom  continued  ;  and 
it  was  with  more  than  the  common  relief  of  an 
arrival  that  he  leaped  from  the  cab  before  the 
station. 

Probably  enough  on  purpose,  Teresa  had 
named  an  hour  some  thirty  minutes  earlier  than 
needful ;  and  when  Harry  had  given  the  box 
into  the  charge  of  a  porter,  who  sat  it  on  a 
truck,  he  proceeded  briskly  to  pace  the  plat- 
form. Presently  the  bookstall  opened  ;  and 
the  young  man  was  looking  at  the  books  when 
he  was  seized  by  the  arm.  He  turned,  and, 
though  she  was  closely  veiled,  at  once  recog- 
nized the  Fair  Cuban. 

' '  Where  is  it  I "  she  asked  ;  and  the  sound 
of  her  voice  surprised  him. 

"It?"  he  said.     "What?" 

"The  box.  Have  it  put  on  a  cab  instantly. 
I  am  in  fearful  haste." 

He    hurried    to    obey,    marveling    at    these 


THE  BROWN  BOX.  293 

changes  but  not  daring  to  trouble  her  with 
questions  ;  and  when  the  cab  had  been  brought 
round,  and  the  box  mounted  on  the  front,  she 
passed  a  little  way  off  upon  the  pavement  and 
beckoned  him  to  follow. 

"Now,"  said  she,  still  in  those  mechanical 
and  hushed  tones  that  had  at  first  affected  him, 
"you  must  go  on  to  Holyhead  alone;  go  on 
board  the  steamer  ;  and  if  you  see  a  man  in 
tartan  trowsers  and  a  pink  scarf,  say  to  him 
that  all  has  been  put  off:  if  not,"  she  added, 
with  a  sobbing  sigh,  ' '  it  does  not  matter.  So, 
good-by." 

"Teresa,"  said  Harry,  "get  into  your  cab, 
and  I  will  go  along  with  you.  You  are  in 
some  distress,  perhaps  some  danger  ;  and  till  I 
know  the  whole,  not  even  you  can  make  me 
leave  you." 

"You  will  not S"  she  asked.  "  Oh,  Harry,  it 
were  better  ! ' ' 

"  I  will  not,"  said  Harry,  stoutly. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  through 
her  veil ;  took  his  hand  suddenly  and  sharply, 
but  more  as  if  in  fear  than  tenderness  ;  and 
still  holding  him,  walked  to  the  cab-door. 

"Where  are  we  to  drive?"  asked  Harry. 

"Home,  quickly,"  she  answered;  "double 
fare !  "  And  as  soon  as  they  had  both  mounted 
to  their  places,  the  vehicle  crazily  trundled 
from  the  station. 


294  THE  BROWN  BOX. 

Teresa  leaned  back  in  a  corner.  The  whole 
way  Harry  could  perceive  her  tears  to  flow 
under  her  veil ;  but  she  vouchsafed  no  explana- 
tion. At  the  door  of  the  house  in  Queen 
Square  both  alighted  ;  and  the  cabman  lowered 
the  box,  which  Harry,  glad  to  display  his 
strength,  received  upon  his  shoulders. 

"Let  the  man  take  it,"  she  whispered.  "Let 
the  man  take  it." 

"  I  will  do  no  such  thing,"  said  Harry  cheer- 
fully ;  and  having  paid  the  fare,  he  followed 
Teresa  through  the  door  which  she  had  opened 
with  her  key.  The  landlady  and  maid  were 
gone  upon  their  morning  errands ;  the  house 
was  empty  and  still ;  and  as  the  rattling  of  the 
cab  died  away  down  Gloucester  Street,  and 
Harry  continued  to  ascend  the  stair  with  his 
burden,  he  heard  close  against  his  shoulders 
the  same  faint  and  muffled  ticking  as  before. 
The  lady,  still  preceding  him,  opened  the  door 
of  her  room,  and  helped  him  to  lower  the  box 
tenderly  in  the  corner  by  the  window. 

* '  And  now, ' '  said  Harry,  ' '  what  is  wrong  % ' ' 

"You  will  not  go  away  % "  she  cried,  with  a 
sudden  break  in  her  voice  and  beating  her 
hands  together  in  the  very  agony  of  impatience. 
' '  Oh  !  Harry,  Harry,  go  away  !  Oh  !  go,  and 
leave  me  to  the  fate  that  I  deserve  ! ' ' 

"The  fate?"  repeated  Harry.  "What  is 
this?" 


THE  BROWN  BOX.  295 

" No  fate,"  she  resumed.  "I  do  not  know 
what  I  am  saying.  But  I  wish  to  be  alone. 
You  may  come  back  this  evening,  Harry ; 
come  again  when  you  like  ;  but  leave  me  now, 
only  leave  me  now  !  "  And  then  suddenly,  "I 
have  an  errand,"  she  exclaimed  ;  "  you  cannot 
refuse  me  that ! ' ' 

"  No,"  replied  Harry,  "  you  have  no  errand. 
You  are  in  grief  or  danger.  Lift  your  veil  and 
tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  Then,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  composure, 
"you  leave  but  one  course  open  to  me."  And 
raising  the  veil,  she  showed  him  a  countenance 
from  which  every  trace  of  color  had  fled,  eyes 
marred  with  weeping,  and  a  brow  on  which  re- 
solve had  conquered  fear.  "Harry,"  she  be- 
gan, "I  am  not  what  I  seem." 

"  You  have  told  me  that  before,"  said  Harry, 
"several  times." 

"Oh!  Harry,  Harry,"  she  cried,  "how  you 
shame  me  !  But  this  is  the  God's  truth.  I  am 
a  dangerous  and  wicked  girl.  My  name  is 
Clara  Luxmore.  I  was  never  nearer  Cuba  than 
Penzance.  From  first  to  last  I  have  cheated 
and  played  with  you.  And  what  I  am  I  dare 
not  even  name  to  you  in  words.  Indeed,  until 
to-day,  until  the  sleepless  watches  of  last  night, 
I  never  grasped  the  depth  and  foulness  of  my 
guilt." 

The  young  man  looked  upon  her   aghast. 


296  THE  BROWN  BOX. 

Then  a  generous  current  poured  along  his  veins. 
' '  That  is  all  one, ' '  he  said.  ' '  If  you  be  all  you 
say,  you  have  the  greater  need  of  me." 

"  Is  it  possible,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  I  have 
schemed  in  vain  %  And  will  nothing  drive  you 
from  this  house  of  death  ?" 

"Of  death?"  he  echoed. 

' '  Death ! ' '  she  cried  ;  ' '  death  !  In  that  box 
that  you  have  dragged  about  London  and  car- 
ried on  your  defenseless  shoulders,  sleeps,  at 
the  trigger's  mercy,  the  destroying  energies  of 
dynamite." 

"  My  God  !  "  cried  Harry. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  continued  wildly,  "  will  you  flee 
now  %  At  any  moment  you  may  hear  the  click 
that  sounds  the  ruin  of  this  building.  I  was 
sure  M'  Guire  was  wrong  ;  this  morning,  before 
day,  I  flew  to  Zero  ;  he  confirmed  my  fears  ;  I 
beheld  you,  my  beloved  Harry,  fall  a  victim  to 
my  own  contrivances.  I  knew  then  I  loved 
you — Harry,  will  you  go  now  %  Will  you  not 
spare  me  this  unwilling  crime  %  " 

Harry  remained  speechless,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  box  :  at  last  he  turned  to  her. 

"Is  it,"  he  asked  hoarsely,  "an  infernal 
machine?" 

Her  lips  formed  the  word  "  yes  ;"  which  her 
voice  refused  to  utter. 

With  fearful  curiosity,  he  drew  near  and 
bent  above  the  box :  in  that  still  chamber,  the 


THE  BROWN  BOX.  297 

ticking  was  distinctly  audible;  and  at  the 
measured  sound,  the  blood  flowed  back  upon 
his  heart. 

"For  whom?"  he  asked. 

i '  What  matters  it  ? "  she  cried,  seizing  him  by 
the  arm.  "  If  you  may  still  be  saved,  what 
matters  questions  \ ' ' 

"  God  in  heaven  !  "  cried  Harry.  "And  the 
children's  hospital!  At  whatever  cost,  this 
damned  contrivance  must  be  stopped  !  " 

" It  can  not,"  she  gasped.  "The  power  of 
man  can  not  avert  the  blow.  But  you,  Harry — 
you,  my  beloved— you  may  still " 

And  then  from  the  box  that  lay  so  quietly  in 
the  corner,  a  sudden  catch  was  audible,  like  the 
catch  of  a  clock  before  it  strikes  the  hour.  For 
one  second,  the  two  stared  at  each  other  with 
lifted  brows  and  stony  eyes.  Then  Harry, 
throwing  one  arm  over  his  face,  with  the  other 
clutched  the  girl  to  his  breast  and  staggered 
against  the  wall. 

A  dull  and  startling  thud  resounded  through 
the  room  ;  their  eyes  blinked  against  the  com- 
ing horror;  and  still  clinging  together  like 
drowning  people,  they  fell  to  the  floor.  Then 
followed  a  prolonged  and  strident  hissing  as 
from  the  indignant  pit;  an  offensive  stench 
seized  them  by  the  throat ;  the  room  was  filled 
with  dense  and  choking  fumes. 

Presently  these  began  a  little  to  disperse  ; 


298  THE  SUPERFL  UO  US  MANSION. 

and  when  at  length  they  drew  themselves,  all 
limp  and  shaken,  to  a  sitting  postnre,  the  first 
object  that  greeted  their  vision  was  the  box  re- 
posing uninjured  in  its  corner,  but  still  leaking 
little  wreaths  of  vapor  round  the  lid. 

"Oh,  poor  Zero!"  cried  the  girl  with  a 
strange  sobbing  laugh.  "Alas,  poor  Zero! 
This  will  break  his  heart !  " 


TEE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION  {concluded). 

SOMERSET  ran  straight  up  stairs  ;  the  door 
of  the  drawing-room,  contrary  to  all  cus- 
tom, was  unlocked ;  and  bursting  in,  the 
young  man  found  Zero  seated  on  a  sofa  in  an 
attitude  of  singular  dejection.  Close  beside 
him  stood  an  untasted  grog,  the  mark  of  strong 
preoccupation.  The  room  besides  was  in  con- 
fusion ;  boxes  had  been  tumbled  to  and  fro ; 
the  floor  was  strewn  with  keys  and  other  imple- 
ments ;  and  in  the  midst  of  this  disorder,  iay  a 
lady's  glove. 

"  I  have  come,"  cried  Somerset,  "to  make 
an  end  of  this.  Either  you  will  instantly  aban- 
don all  your  schemes,  or  (cost  what  it  may)  I 
will  denounce  you  to  the  police." 

i  i  ^  j  5  ?  replied  Zero,  slowly  shaking  his  head. 
"You  are  too  late,  dear  fellow  !  I  am  already 
at  the  end  of  all  my  hopes  and  fallen  to  be  a 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  299 

laughing-stock  and  mockery.  My  reading,"  he 
added,  with  a  gentle  despondency  of  manner, 
"has  not  been  much  among  romances;  yet  I 
recall  from  one  a  phrase  that  depicts  my  pres- 
ent state  with  critical  exactitude  ;  and  you 
behold  me  sitting  here  'like  a  burst  drum.'" 

"  What  has  befallen  you  \  "  cried  Somerset. 

"My  last  batch,"  returned  the  plotter, 
wearily,  "like  all  the  others,  is  a  hollow  mock- 
ery and  a  fraud.  In  vain  do  I  combine  the  ele- 
ments ;  in  vain  adjust  the  springs  ;  and  I  have 
now  arrived  at  such  a  pitch  of  disconsideration 
that  (except  yourself,  dear  fellow)  I  do  not 
know  a  soul  that  I  can  face.  My  subordinates 
themselves  have  turned  upon  me.  What  lan- 
guage have  I  heard  to-day,  what  illiberality  of 
sentiment,  what  pungency  of  expression  !  She 
came  once  ;  I  could  have  pardoned  that,  for 
she  was  moved  ;  but  she  returned,  returned  to 
announce  to  me  this  crushing  blow ;  and,  Som- 
erset, she  was  very  inhumane.  Yes,  dear  fel- 
low, I  have  drunk  a  bitter  cup  ;  the  speech  of 
females  is  remarkable  for.  .  .  well,  well !  De- 
nounce me,  if  you  will,  you  but  denounce  the 
dead.  I  am  extinct.  It  is  strange  how,  at  this 
supreme  crisis  of  my  life,  I  should  be  haunted 
by  quotations  from  works  of  an  inexact  and 
even  fanciful  description  ;  but  here,"  he  added, 
' '  is  another:  'Othello' s  occupation' s  gone.'  Yes, 
dear  Somerset,  it  is  gone  ;  I  am  no  more  a  dyna- 


300  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

miter  ;  and  how,  I  ask  you,  after  having  tasted 
of  these  joys,  am  I  to  condescend  to  a  less  glori- 
ous life?" 

"  I  can  not  describe  how  you  relieve  me,"  re- 
turned Somerset,  sitting  down  on  one  of  the 
several  boxes  that  had  been  drawn  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  floor.  "I  had  conceived  a  sort 
of  maudlin  toleration  for  your  character;  I  have 
a  great  distaste,  besides,  for  any  thing  in  the 
nature  of  a  duty  ;  and  upon  both  grounds,  your 
news  delights  me.  But  I  seem  to  perceive," 
he  added,  "a  certain  sound  of  ticking  in  this 
box." 

"Yes,"  replied  Zero,  with  the  same  slow 
weariness  of  manner,  "I  have  set  several  of 
them  going." 

"  My  God  !"  cried  Somerset,  bounding  to  his 
feet.     "Machines?" 

"  Machines  ! "  returned  the  plotter,  bitterly. 
"  Machines  indeed  !  I  blush  to  be  their  author. 
Alas !  "  he  said,  burying  his  face  in  his  hands, 
"that  I  should  live  to  say  it !  " 

"  Madman  !  "cried  Somerset,  shaking  him  by 
the  arm.  "What  am  I  to  understand  ?  Have 
you,  indeed,  set  these  diabolical  contrivances 
in  motion,  and  do  we  stay  here  to  be  blown 
up?" 

"  '  Hoist  with  his  own  petard  '  ?"  returned 
the  plotter  musingly.  ' '  One  more  quotation  : 
strange  !     But  indeed  my  brain  is  struck  with 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  301 

numbness.  Yes,  dear  boy,  I  have,  as  you 
say,  put  my  contrivance  in  motion.  The  one 
on  which  you  are  sitting,  I  have  timed  for  half 
an  hour.     Yon  other ' ' 

"  Half  an  hour  !  "  echoed  Somerset,  dancing 
with  trepidation.  "Merciful  heavens,  in  half 
an  hour !  " 

"Dear  fellow,  why  so  much  excitement?" 
inquired  Zero.  "My  dynamite  is  not  more 
dangerous  than  toffy  ;  had  I  an  only  child  I 
would  give  it  him  to  play  with.  You  see  this 
brick  \ "  he  continued,  lifting  a  cake  of  the  in- 
fernal compound  from  the  laboratory  table  ; 
"at  a  touch  it  should  explode,  and  that  with 
such  unconquerable  energy  as  should  bestrew 
the  square  with  ruins.  Well,  now,  behold  !  I 
dash  it  on  the  floor." 

Somerset  sprang  forward,  and  with  the 
strength  of  the  very  ecstasy  of  terror,  wrested 
the  brick  from  his  possession.  "Heavens  !  "  he 
cried,  wiping  his  brow,  and  then  with  more 
care  than  ever  mother  handled  her  firstborn 
withal,  gingerly  transported  the  explosive  to 
the  far  end  of  the  apartment,  the  plotter,  his 
arms  once  more  fallen  to  his  side,  dispiritedly 
watching  him. 

"It  was  entirely  harmless,"  he  sighed. 
"  They  describe  it  as  burning  like  tobacco." 

"In  the  name  of  fortune,"  cried  Somerset, 
"what  have  I  done  to  you,  or  what  have  you 


302  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

done  to  yourself,  that  yon  should  persist  in 
this  insane  behavior  \  If  not  for  your  own 
sake,  then  for  mine,  let  us  depart  from  this 
doomed  house,  where  I  profess  I  have  not  the 
heart  to  leave  you  ;  and  then,  if  you  will  take 
my  advice,  and  if  your  determination  be  sin- 
cere, you  will  instantly  quit  this  city,  where 
no  further  occupation  can  detain  you." 

"  Such,  dear  fellow,  was  my  own  design," 
replied  the  plotter.  "I  have,  as  you  observe, 
no  further  business  here,  and  once  I  have 
packed  a  little  bag  I  shall  ask  you  to  share  a 
frugal  meal,  to  go  with  me  as  far  as  to  the 
station  and  see  the  last  of  a  broken-hearted 
man.  And  yet,"  he  added,  looking  on  the 
boxes  with  a  lingering  regret,  ' '  I  should  have 
liked  to  make  quite  certain.  I  can  not  but  sus- 
pect my  underlings  of  some  mismanagement ; 
it  may  be  fond,  but  yet  I  cherish  that  idea :  it 
may  be  the  weakness  of  a  man  of  science,  but 
yet,"  he  cried,  rising  into  some  energy,  "  I  will 
never,  I  can  not  if  I  try,  believe  that  my  poor 
dynamite  has  had  fair  usage  ! ' ' 

"Five  minutes!"  said  Somerset,  glancing 
with  horror  at  the  timepiece.  "  If  you  do  not 
instantly  buckle  to  your  bag,  I  leave  you." 

"A  few  necessaries,"  returned  Zero,  "only 
a  few  necessaries,  dear  Somerset,  and  you  be- 
hold me  ready. ' ' 

He  passed  into  the  bedroom,   and  after  an 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  303 

interval  which  seemed  to  draw  out  into  eternity 
for  his  unfortunate  companion,  he  returned, 
bearing  in  his  hand  an  open  Gladstone  bag. 
His  movements  were  still  horribly  deliberate, 
and  his  eyes  lingered  gloatingly  on  his  dear 
boxes,  as  he  moved  to  and  fro  about  the  draw- 
ing-room, gathering  a  few  small  trifles.  Last 
of  all,  he  lifted  one  of  the*  squares  of  dyna- 
mite. 

"Pat  that  down!"  cried  Somerset.  "If 
what  you  say  be  true,  you  have  no  call  to  load 
yourself  with  that  ungodly  contraband." 

"  Merely  a  curiosity,  dear  boy,"  he  said  per- 
suasively, and  slipped  the  brick  into  his  bag  ; 
"merely  a  memento  of  the  past — ah,  happy 
past,  bright  past !  You  will  not  take  a  touch 
of  spirits  \  no  \  I  find  you  very  abstemious. 
Well,"  he  added,  "  if  you  have  really  no  curi- 
osity to  await  the  event ' ' 

"  I !  "  cried  Somerset.  "My  blood  boils  to 
get  away." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Zero,  "I  am  ready  ;  I 
would  I  could  say,  willing ;  but  thus  to  leave 
the  scene  of  my  sublime  endeavors ' ' 

Without  further  parley,  Somerset  seized  him 
by  the  arm,  and  dragged  him  down  stairs  ;  the 
hall-door  shut  with  a  clang  on  the  deserted 
mansion ;  and  still  towing  his  laggardly  com- 
panion, the  young  man  sped  across  the  square 
in  the  Oxford  Street  direction.     They  had  not 


304  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

yet  passed  the  corner  of  the  garden,  when  they 
were  arrested  by  a  dull  thud  of  an  extraordinary 
amplitude  of  sound,  aecomi:>anied  and  followed 
by  a  shattering  fracas.  Somerset  turned  in 
time  to  see  the  mansion  rend  in  twain,  vomit 
forth  flames  and  smoke,  and  instantly  collapse 
into  its  cellars.  At  the  same  moment,  he  was 
thrown  violently  to  the  ground.  His  first  glance 
was  towards  Zero.  The  plotter  had  but  reeled 
against  the  garden  rail ;  he  stood  there,  the 
Gladstone  bag  clasped  tight  upon  his  heart,  his 
whole  face  radiant  with  relief  and  gratitude  ; 
and  the  young  man  heard  him  murmur  to  him- 
self :   ' '  Nunc  dimittis,  nunc  dimittis  ! ' ' 

The  consternation  of  the  populace  was  indes- 
cribable ;  the  whole  of  Golden  Square  was  alive 
with  men,  women  and  children,  running 
wildly  to  and  fro,  and  like  rabbits  in  a 
warren,  dashing  in  and  out  of  the  house  doors. 
And  under  favor  of  this  confusion,  Somerset 
dragged  away  the  lingering  plotter. 

"  It  was  grand,"  he  continued  to  murmur  : 
"  it  was  indescribably  grand.  Ah,  green  Erin, 
green  Erin,  what  a  day  of  glory  !  and  oh,  my 
calumniated  dynamite,  how  triumphantly  hast 
thou  prevailed  !  " 

Suddenly  a  shade  crossed  his  face  ;  and  paus- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  footway,  he  consulted 
the  dial  of  his  watch. 

"Good  God!  "he  cried,  "  how  mortifying  ! 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  305 

seven  minutes  too  early  !  The  dynamite  s?ir- 
passed  my  hopes  ;  but  the  clockwork,  fickle 
clockwork,  has  once  more  betrayed  me.  Alas, 
can  there  be  no  success  unmixed  with  failure  % 
and  must  even  this  red-letter-day  be  checkered 
by  a  shadow  \ ' ' 

"  Incomparable  ass  !  "  said  Somerset,  "  what 
have  you  done  %  Blown  up  the  house  of  an  un- 
offending old  lady,  and  the  whole  property  of 
the  only  person  who  is  fool  enough  to  befriend 
you!" 

"You  do  not  understand  these  matters,"  re- 
plied Zero,  with  an  air  of  great  dignity.  ' '  This 
will  shake  England  to  the  heart.  Gladstone  the 
truculent  old  man,  will  quail  before  the  point- 
ing finger  of  revenge.  And  now  that  my  dyna- 
mite is  proved  effective ' ' 

"Heavens,  you  remind  me!"  ejaculated 
Somerset.  "  That  brick  in  your  bag  must  be 
instantly  disposed  of.  But  how  ?  If  we  could 
throw  it  in  the  river ' ' 

"A  torpedo,"  cried  Zero,  brightening,  "a 
torpedo  in  the  Thames  !  Superb,  dear  fellow  ! 
I  recognize  in  you  the  marks  of  an  accomplished 
anarch." 

"  True  !  "  returned  Somerset.  "  It  can  not  so 
be  done  ;  and  there  is  no  help  but  you  must 
carry  it  away  with  you.  Come  on,  then,  and 
let  me  at  once  consign  you  to  a  train." 

"Nay,    nay,    dear    boy,"    protested    Zero. 


306  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

"  There  is  now  no  call  forme  to  leave.  My 
character  is  now  reinstated;  my  fame  brightens; 
this  is  the  best  thing  I  have  done  yet;  and  I  see 
from  here  the  ovations  that  await  the  author  of 
the  Golden  Square  Atrocity." 

"  My  young  friend,"  returned  the  other,  "  I 
give  you  your  choice.  I  will  either  see  you 
safe  on  board  a  train  or  safe  in  gaol." 

' '  Somerset,  this  is  unlike  you  ! ' '  said  the 
chymist.     "  You  surprise  me,   Somerset." 

"  I  shall  considerably  more  surprise  you  at 
the  next  police  office,"  returned  Somerset,  with 
something  bordering  on  rage.  "  For  on  one 
point  my  mind  is  settled :  either  I  see  you 
packed  off  to  America,  brick  and  all,  or  else  you 
dine  in  prison." 

"  You  have  perhaps  neglected  one  point," 
returned  the  unoff ended  Zero  :  i '  for,  speaking 
as  a  philosopher,  I  fail  to  see  what  means  you 
can  employ  to  force  me.  The  will,  my  dear  fel- 
low  " 

"Now,  see  here,"  interrupted  Somerset. 
w '  You  are  ignorant  of  any  thing  but  science, 
which  I  can  never  regard  as  being  truly  knowl- 
edge ;  I,  sir,  have  studied  life  ;  and  allow  me 
to  inform  you  that  I  have  but  to  raise  my  hand 
and  voice — here  in  this  street — and  the  mob — ' ' 

"Good  God  in  heaven,  Somerset!"  cried 
Zero,  turning  deadly  white  and  stopping  in  his 
walk,  "great  God  in  heaven,  what  words  are 


THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION.  307 

these  !  Oil  not  in  jest,  not  even  in  jest,  should 
they  be  used  !  The  brutal  mob,  the  savage 
passions  ....  Somerset,  for  God's  sake,  a 
public-house  !  " 

Somerset  considered  him  with  freshly 
awakened  curiosity.  "  This  is  very  interesting," 
said  he.     "  You  recoil  from  such  a  death  %  " 

"  Who  would  not  \ "  asked  the  plotter. 

"  And  to  be  blown  up  by  dynamite,"  inquired 
the  young  man,  "doubtless  strikes  you  as  a 
form  of  euthanasia  ?  ' ' 

"Pardon  me,"  returned  Zero:  "I  own,  and 
since  I  have  braved  it  daily  in  my  professional 
career,  I  own  it  even  with  pride  :  it  is  a  death 
unusually  distasteful  to  the  mind  of  man." 

"  One  more  question,"  said  Somerset :  "  you 
object  to  Lynch  Law  \  why  V 

"  It  is  assassination,"  said  the  plotter  calmly; 
but  with  eyebrows  a  little  lifted,  as  in  wonder 
at  the  question. 

"Shake  hands  with  me,"  cried  Somerset. 
"Thank  God,  I  have  now  no  ill-feeling  left; 
and  though  you  can  not  conceive  how  I  burn  to 
see  you  on  the  gallows,  I  can  quite  contentedly 
assist  at  your  departure." 

"  I  do  not  very  clearly  take  your  meaning," 
said  Zero,  "but  I  am  sure  you  mean  kindly. 
As  to  my  departure,  there  is  another,  point  to 
be  considered.  I  have  neglected  to  supply 
myself  with  funds  ;  my  little  all  has  perished 


308  THE  SUPERFLUOUS  MANSION. 

in  what  history  will  love  to  relate  under  the 
name  of  the  Golden  Square  Atrocity  ;  and 
without  what  is  coarsely  if  vigorously  called 
stamps,  you  must  be  well  aware  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  pass  the  ocean." 

"For  me,"  said  Somerset,  "you  have  now 
ceased  to  be  a  man.  You  have  no  more  claim 
upon  me  than  a  door  scraper  ;  but  the  touching 
confusion  of  your  mind  disarms  me  from  ex- 
tremities. Until  to-day,  I  always  thought 
stupidity  was  funny  ;  I  now  know  otherwise  ; 
and  when  I  look  upon  your  idiot  face,  laughter 
rises  within  me  like  a  deadly  sickness,  and  the 
tears  spring  up  into  my  eyes  as  bitter  as  blood. 
What  should  this  portend  ?  I  begin  to  doubt ; 
I  am  losing  faith  in  skepticism.  Is  it  possible," 
he  cried,  in  a  kind  of  horror  of  himself — "  is  it 
conceivable  that  I  believe  in  right  and  wrong  % 
Already  I  have  found  myself,  with  incredulous 
surprise,  to  be  the  victim  of  a  prejudice  of  per- 
sonal honor.  And  must  this  change  proceed  ? 
Have  you  robbed  me  of  my  youth  \  Must  I  fall, 
at  my  time  of  life,  into  the  Common  Banker  ? 
But  why  should  I  address  that  head  of  wood  % 
Let  this  suffice.  I  dare  not  let  you  stay  among 
women  and  children  ;  I  lack  the  courage  to  de- 
nounce you,  if  by  any  means  I  may  avoid  it ; 
you  have  no  money  :  well  then,  take  mine,  and 
go  ;  and  if  ever  I  behold  your  face  after  to-day, 
that  day  will  be  your  last." 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  309 

"  Under  the  circumstances, "  replied  Zero,  "  I 
scarce  see  my  way  to  refuse  your  offer.  Your 
expressions  may  pain,  they  cannot  surprise  me; 
I  am  aware  our  point  of  view  requires  a  little 
training,  a  little  moral  hygiene,  if  I  may  so 
express  it ;  and  one  of  the  points  that  has  always 
charmed  me  in  your  character,  is  this  delight- 
ful frankness.  As  for  the  small  advance,  it 
shall  be  remitted  you  from  Philadelphia." 

"  It  shall  not,"  said  Somerset. 

"  Dear  fellow,  you  do  not  understand,"  re- 
turned the  plotter.  "I  shall  now  be  received 
with  fresh  confidence  by  my  superiors  ;  and 
my  experiments  will  be  no  longer  hampered  by 
pitiful  conditions  of  the  purse." 

"  What  I  am  now  about,  sir,  is  a  crime,"  re- 
plied Somerset;  "  and  were  you  to  roll  in 
wealth  like  Vanderbilt,  I  should  scorn  to  be 
reimbursed  of  money  I  had  so  scandalously 
misapplied.  Take  it,  and  keep  it.  By  George, 
sir,  three  days  of  you  have  transformed  me  to 
an  ancient  Roman." 

With  these  words,  Somerset  hailed  a  passing 
hansom  ;  and  the  pair  were  driven  rapidly  to 
the  railway  terminus.  There,  an  oath  having 
been  exacted,  the  money  changed  hands. 

"  And  now,"  said  Somerset,  "I  have  bought 
back  my  honor  with  every  penny  I  possess. 
And  I  thank  God,  though  there  is  nothing 
before  me  but  starvation,  I  am  free  from  all 


3 1  o  THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION. 

entanglement  with  Mr.  Zero  Pumpernickel 
Jones." 

"To  starve  !  "  cried  Zero.  "  Dear  fellow,  I 
cannot  endure  the  thought." 

"Take  your  ticket !  "  returned  Somerset. 

"I  think  you  display  temper,"  said  Zero. 

' 'Take  your  ticket,"  reiterated  the  young 
man. 

"Well,"   said  the  plotter,   as  he  returned, 


ticket  in  hand,  ' '  your  attitude  is  so  strange 
and  painful,  that  I  scarce  know  if  I  should  ask 
you  to  shake  hands." 

"As  a  man,  no,"  replied  Somerset  ;  "but  I 
have  no  objection  to  shake  hands  with  you,  as 
I  might  with  a  pump-well  that  ran  poison  or 
hell-fire." 

"This  is  a  very  cold  parting,"  sighed  the 
dynamiter  ;  and  still  followed  by  Somerset,  he 
began  to  descend  the  platform.  This  was  now 
bustling  with  passengers  ;  the  train  for  Liver- 
pool was  just  about  to  start,  another  had  but 
recently  arrived  ;  and  the  double  tide  made 
movement  difficult.  As  the  pair  readied  the 
neighborhood  of  the  bookstall,  however,  they 
came  into  an  open  space  ;  and  here  the  atten- 
tion of  the  plotter  was  attracted  by  a  Stand- 
ard broadside  bearing  the  words  :  ' '  Second 
Edition  :  Explosion  in  Golden  Square."  His 
eye  lighted  ;  groping  in  his  pocket  for  the 
necessary  coin,   he  sprang  forward — his  bag 


THE  S  UPERFL  UO  US  MA  NSION.  3 1 1 

knocked  sharply  on  the  corner  of  the  stall — 
and  instantly,  with  a  formidable  report,  the 
dynamite  exploded.  When  the  smoke  cleared 
away  the  stall  was  seen  much  shattered,  and 
the  stall-keeper  running  forth  in  terror  from 
the  ruins  ;  but  of  the  Irish  patriot  or  the  Glad- 
stone bag  no  adequate  remains  were  to  be 
found. 

In  the  first  scramble  of  the  alarm,  Somerset 
made  good  his  escape,  and  came  out  upon  the 
Euston  Road,  his  head  spinning,  his  body  sick 
with  hunger,  and  his  pockets  destitute  of  coin. 
Yet  as  he  continued  to  walk  the  pavements,  he 
wondered  to  find  in  his  heart  a  sort  of  peaceful 
exultation,  a  great  content,  a  sense,  as  it  were, 
of  divine  presence  and  the  kindliness  of  fate  ; 
and  he  was  able  to  tell  himself  that  even  if  the 
worst  befell,  he  could  now  starve  with  a  certain 
comfort  since  Zero  was  expunged. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  he  found  himself  at 
the  door  of  Mr.  Godall's  shop  ;  and  being  quite 
unmanned  by  his  long  fast,  and  scarce  consid- 
ering what  he  did,  he  opened  the  glass  door 
and  entered. 

"Ha!"  said  Mr.  Godall,  "Mr.  Somerset! 
Well,  have  you  met  with  an  adventure  1  Have 
you  the  promised  story?  Sit  down,  if  you 
please  ;  suffer  me  to  choose  you  a  cigar  of  my 
own  special  brand,  and  reward  me  with  a  nar- 
rative in  your  best  style." 


312  EPILOGUE  OE   THE  GIGAR  DIVAN. 

"  I  must  not  take  a  cigar,"  said  Somerset. 

"Indeed!"  said  Mr.  Godall.  "But  now  I 
come  to  look  at  you  more  closely,  I  perceive 
that  you  are  changed.  My  poor  boy,  I  hope 
there  is  nothing  wrong  % ' ' 

Somerset  burst  into  tears. 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

ON  a  certain  day  of  lashing  rain  in  the  Dec- 
ember of  last  year,  and  between  the  hours 
of  nine  and  ten  in  the  morning,  Mr.  Edward 
Challoner  pioneered  himself  under  an  umbrella 
to  the  door  of  the  Cigar  Divan  in  Rupert  Street. 
It  was  a  place  he  had  visited  but  once  before  : 
the  memory  of  what  had  followed  on  that  visit 
and  the  fear  of  Somerset,  having  prevented  his 
return.  Even  now,  he  looked  in  before  he  en- 
tered ;  bat  the  shop  was  free  of  customers. 

The  young  man  behind  the  counter  was  so 
intently  writing  in  a  penny- version  book,  that 
he  paid  no  heed  to  Challoner's  arrival.  On  a 
second  glance,  it  seemed  to  the  latter  that  he 
recognized  him. 

"By  Jove,"  he  thought,  "unquestionably 
Somerset !  " 

And  though  this  was  the  very  man  he  had 
been  so  sedulously  careful  to  avoid,  his  unex- 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  313 

plained  position  at  the  receipt  of  custom 
changed  distaste  to  curiosity. 

"  'Or  opulent  rotunda  strike  the  sky,'  "  said 
the  shopman  to  himself,  in  the  tone  of  one  con- 
sidering a  verse.  ' '  I  suppose  it  would  be  too 
much  to  say  '  orotunda, '  and  yet  how  noble  it 
were  !  '  Or  opulent  orotunda  strike  the  sky.' 
But  that  is  the  bitterness  of  arts ;  you  see  a 
good  effect,  and  some  nonsense  about  sense  con- 
tinually intervenes." 

"  Somerset,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Challoner, 
"is  this  a  masquerade  % " 

"What?  Challoner!"  cried  the  shopman. 
"lam  delighted  to  see  you.  One  moment,  till 
I  finish  the  octave  of  my  sonnet :  only  the 
octave."  And  with  a  friendly  waggle  of  the 
hand,  he  once  more  buried  himself  in  the  com- 
merce of  the  Muses.  ' '  I  say, ' '  he  said  presently, 
looking  up,  ' '  you  seem  in  wonderful  preserva- 
tion :  how  about  the  hundred  pounds  % ' ' 

"I  have  made  a  small  inheritance  from  a 
great-aunt  in  Wales,"  replied  Challoner  mod- 
estly. 

"  Ah,"  said  Somerset,  "  I  very  much  doubt 
the  legitimacy  of  inheritance.  The  State,  in 
my  view,  should  collar  it.  I  am  now  going 
through  a  stage  of  socialism  and  poetry,"  he 
added  apologetically,  as  one  who  spoke  of  a 
course  of  medicinal  waters. 

"And  are  you  really  the    person  of  the— 


314  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

establishment  % ' '    inquired    Challoner,    deftly 
evading  the  word  "shop." 

"  A  vendor,  sir,  a  vendor,"  returned  the 
other,  pocketing  his  poesy.  "  I  help  old  Happy 
and  Glorious.     Can  I  offer  you  a  weed  %  " 

"Well,  I  scarcely  like  .  .  .  "began  Chal- 
loner. 

' '  Nonsense,  my  dear  fellow,"  cried  the  shop- 
man. ' '  We  are  very  proud  of  the  business  ; 
and  the  old  man,  let  me  inform  you,  besides 
being  the  most  egregious  of  created  beings  from 
the  point  of  view  of  ethics,  is  literally  sprung 
from  the  loins  of  kings.  '  De  Godall  je  suis 
le  fervent?  There  is  only  one  Godall. — By  the 
way,"  he  added,  as  Challoner  lit  his  cigar, 
"how  did  you  get  on  with  the  detective 
trade?" 

"I  did  not  try,"  said  Challoner  curtly. 

"Ah,  well,  I  did,"  returned  Somerset,  "and 
made  the  most  incomparable  mess  of  it :  lost  all 
my  money  and  fairly  covered  myself  with  odium 
and  ridicule.  There  is  more  in  that  business, 
Challoner,  than  meets  the  eye ;  there  is  more, 
in  fact,  in  all  businesses.  You  must  believe  in 
them,  or  get  up  the  belief  that  you  believe. 
Hence,"  he  added,  "  the  recognized  inferiority 
of  the  plumber,  for  no  one  could  believe  in 
plumbing." 

"A  propos"    asked   Challoner,    "do  you 
still  paint?" 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  315 


c< 


Not  now,"  replied  Paul;  "but I  think  of 
taking  up  the  violin." 

Challoner's  eye,  which  had  been  somewhat 
restless  since  the  trade  of  the  detective  had 
been  named,  now  rested  for  a  moment  on  the 
columns  of  the  morning  paper,  where  it  lay 
spread  upon  the  counter. 

"By  Jove,"  he  cried,  "that's  odd  !  " 

"  What  is  odd  \  "  asked  Paul. 

"  Oh,  notjimg,"  returned  the  other  :  "  only  I 
once  met  a  person' called  M'Guire." 

"  So  did  I !  "  cried  Somerset.  "  Is  there  any 
thing  about  him  \  " 

Challoner  read  as  follows:  "Mysterious 
death  in  Stepney.  An  inquest  was  held  yes- 
terday on  the  body  of  Patrick  M'Guire,  de- 
scribed as  a  carpenter.  Doctor  Dovering  stated 
that  he  had  for  some  time  treated  the  deceased 
as  a  dispensary  patient,  for  sleeplessness,  loss 
of  appetite  and  nervous  depression.  There  was 
no  cause  of  death  to  be  found.  He  would  say 
the  deceased  had  sunk.  Deceased  was  not  a 
temperate  man,  which  doubtless  accelerated 
death.  Deceased  complained  of  dumb  ague, 
but  witness  had  never  been  able  to  detect  any 
positive  disease.  He  did  not  know  that  he 
had  any  family.  He  regarded  him  as  a  person 
of  unsound  intellect,  who  believed  himself  a 
member  and  the  victim  of  some  secret  society. 
If  he  were  to  hazard  an  opinion,  he  would  say 
deceased  had  died  of  fear." 


316  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

"And  the  doctor  would  be  right,"  cried 
Somerset ;  "  and  my  dear  Challoner,  I  am  so 

relieved  to  hear  of  his  demise,  that  I  will 

Well  after  all,"  he  added,  "  poor  devil,  he  was 
well  served." 

The  door  at  this  moment  opened,  and  Des- 
borougli  appeared  upon  the  threshold.  He  was 
wrapped  in  a  long  waterproof,  imperfectly  sup- 
plied with  buttons  ;  his  boots  were  full  of 
water,  his  hat  greasy  with  service ;  and  yet  he 
wore  the  air  of  one  exceedingly  well  content 
with  life.  He  was  hailed  by  the  two  others 
with  exclamations  of  surprise  and  welcome. 

"And  did  you  try  the  detective  business  1 " 
inquired  Paul. 

"No,"  returned  Harry.  "Oh  yes,  by  the 
way,  I  did  though ;  twice,  and  got  caught  out 
both  times.  But  I  thought  I  should  find  my — 
my  wife  here  ! "  he  added,  with  a  kind  of 
proud  confusion. 

"  What !  are  you  married  ? "  cried  Somerset. 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Harry,  "  quite  along  time  :  a 
month  at  least." 

"  Money  % "  asked  Challoner. 

"  That's  the  worst  of  it,"  Desborough  admit- 
ted. ' '  We  are  deadly  hard  up.  But  the  Pri — 
Mr.  Godall  is  going  to  do  something  for  us. 
That  is  what  brings  us  here." 

"Who  was  Mrs.  Desborough?"  said  Chal- 
loner, in  the  tone  of  a  man  of  society. 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  317 

"  She  was  a  Miss  Luxmore,"  returned  Harry. 
"  You  fellows  will  be  sure  to  like  her,  for  she 
is  much  cleverer  than  I.  She  tells  wonderful 
stories,  too  ;  better  than  a  book." 

And  just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs. 
Desborough  entered.  Somerset  cried  out  aloud 
to  recognize  the  young  lady  of  the  Superfluous 
Mansion,  and  Challoner  fell  back  a  step  and 
dropped  his  cigar  as  he  beheld  the  sorceress  of 
Chelsea. 

"What !  "  cried  Harry,  "do  you  both  know 
my  wife  % ' ' 

"I  believe  I  have  seen  her,"  said  Somerset, 
a  little  wildly. 

"I  think  I  have  met  the  gentlemen,"  said 
Mrs.  Desborough,  sweetly;  "but  I  can  not 
imagine  where  it  was.  " 

"  Oh  no,"  cried  Somerset  fervently  :  "  I  have 
no  notion— I  can  not  conceive — where  it  could 
have  been.  Indeed,"  he  continued,  growing  in 
emphasis,  "I  think  it  highly  probable  that  it's 
a  mistake." 

"And  you,  Challoner?"  asked  Harry,  "you 
seemed  to  recognize  her,  too." 

"These  are  both  friends  of  yours,  Harry?" 
said  the  lady.  "Delighted,  I  am  sure.  I  do 
not  remember  to  have  met  Mr.  Challoner." 

Challoner  was  very  red  in  the  face,  perhaps 
from  having  groped  after  his  cigar.  "  I  do  not 
remember  to  have  had  the  pleasure,"  he 
responded  huskily. 


318  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

"Well,  and  Mr.  Godall?"  asked  Mrs.  Des- 
borough. 

"Are  you  the  lady  that  has  an  appointment 
with  old  .  .  .  ."  began  Somerset,  and  paused 
blushing.  "Because  if  so,"  he  resumed,  "I 
was  to  announce  you  at  once." 

And  the  shopman  raised  a  curtain,  opened  a 
door,  and  passed  into  a  small  pavilion  which 
had  been  added  to  the  back  of  the  house.  On 
the  roof,  the  rain  resounded  musically.  The 
walls  were  lined  with  maps  and  prints  and  a 
few  works  of  reference.  Upon  a  table  was  a 
large-scale  map  of  Egypt  and  the  Soudan,  and 
another  of  Tonkin,  on  which,  by  the  aid  of 
colored  pins,  the  progress  of  the  different  wars 
was  being  followed  day  by  day.  A  light, 
refreshing  odor  of  the  most  delicate  tobacco 
hung  upon  the  air  ;  and  a  fire,  not  of  foul  coal, 
but  of  clear-flaming  resinous  billets,  chattered 
upon  silver  dogs.  In  this  elegant  and  plain 
apartment,  Mr.  Godall  sat  in  a  morning  muse, 
placidly  gazing  at  the  fire  and  hearkening  to 
the  rain  upon  the  roof. 

"  Ha,  my  dear  Mr.  Somerset,"  said  he,  "  and 
have  you  since  last  night  adopted  any  fresh 
political  principle  ? " 

"  The  lady,  sir,"  said  Somerset,  with  another 
blush. 

"You  have  seen  her,  I  believe?"  returned 
Mr.  Godall ;  and  on  Somerset's  replying  in  the 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  319 

affirmative:  "You  will  excuse  me,  my  dear 
sir,"  lie  resumed,  "if  I  offer  you  a  hint.  I 
think  it  not  improbable  this  lady  may  desire 
entirely  to  forget  the  past.  From  one  gentle- 
man to  another,  no  more  words  are  necessary." 

A  moment  after,  he  had  received  Mrs.  Des- 
borough  with  that  grave  and  touching  urban- 
ity that  so  well  became  him. 

"I  am  pleased,  madam,  to  welcome  you  to 
my  poor  house,"  he  said  ;  "and  shall  be  still 
more  so,  if  what  were  else  a  barren  courtesy 
and  a  pleasure  personal  to  myself,  shall  prove 
to  be  of  serious  benefit  to  you  and  Mr.  Des- 
borough." 

"Your  Highness,"  replied  Clara,  "I  must 
begin  with  thanks  ;  it  is  like  what  I  have  heard 
of  you,  that  you  should  thus  take  up  the  case 
of  the  unfortunate  ;  and  as  for  my  Harry,  he 
is  worthy  of  all  that  you  can  do. ' '     She  paused. 

"But  for  yourself?"  suggested  Mr.  Godall 
— "it  was  thus  you  were  about  to  continue,  I 
believe." 

"You  take  the  words  out  of  my  mouth," 
she  said.     "For  myself  it  is  different." 

"  I  am  not  here  to  be  a  judge  of  men,"  replied 
the  Prince  ;  "still  less  of  women.  I  am  now  a 
private  person  like  yourself  and  many  million 
others  ;  but  I  am  one  who  still  fights  upon  the 
side  of  quiet.  Now,  madam,  you  know  better 
than  I,  and  God  better  than  you,   what  you 


320  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

have  clone  to  mankind  in  the  past ;  I  pause 
not  to  inquire  ;  it  is  with  the  future  I  concern 
myself,  it  is  for  the  future  I  demand  security. 
I  would  not  willingly  put  arms  into  the  hands 
of  a  disloyal  combatant ;  and  I  dare  not  restore 
to  wealth  one  of  the  levyers  of  a  private 
and  a  barbarous  war.  I  speak  with  some 
severity,  and  yet  I  pick  my  terms.  I  tell  my- 
self continually  that  you  are  a  woman  ;  and  a 
voice  continually  reminds  me  of  the  children 
whose  lives  and  limbs  you  have  endangered. 
A  woman,"  he  repeated  solemnly — "  and  chil- 
dren. Possibly,  madam,  when  you  are  your- 
self a  mother,  you  will  feel  the  bite  of  that 
antithesis :  possibly  when  you  kneel  at  night 
beside  a  cradle,  a  fear  will  fall  upon  you, 
heavier  than  any  shame  ;  and  when  your  child 
lies  in  the  pain  and  danger  of  disease,  you 
shall  hesitate  to  kneel  before  your  Maker." 

"You  look  at  the  fault,"  she  said,  "and  not 
at  the  excuse.  Has  your  own  heart  never 
leaped  within  you  at  some  story  of  oppression  % 
But,  alas,  no !  for  you  were  born  upon  a 
throne." 

"I  was  born  of  woman,"  said  the  Prince; 
"I  came  forth  from  my  mother's  agony,  help- 
less as  a  wren,  like  other  nurslings.  This, 
which  you  forgot,  I  have  still  faithfully  remem- 
bered. Is  it  not  one  of  your  English  poets, 
that  looked  abroad  upon  the  earth  and  saw  vast 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  321 

circumvallations,  innumerable  troops  maneuv- 
ering, war-ships  at  sea  and  a  great  dust  of  bat- 
tles on  shore  ;  and  casting  anxiously  about  for 
what  should  be  the  cause  of  so  many  and  pain- 
ful preparations,  spied  at  last,  in  the  center  of 
all,  a  mother  and  her  babe  \  These,  madam, 
are  my  politics  ;  and  the  verses,  which  are  by 
Mr.  Coventry  Patmore,  I  have  caused  to  be 
translated  into  the  Bohemian  tongue.  Yes, 
these  are  my  politics  :  to  change  what  we  can ; 
to  better  what  we  can  ;  but  still  to  bear  in  mind 
that  man  is  but  a  devil  weakly  fettered  by  some 
generous  beliefs  and  impositions ;  and  for  no 
word  however  nobly  sounding,  and  no  cause 
however  just  and  pious,  to  relax  the  stricture  of 
these  bonds." 

There  was  a  silence  of  a  moment. 

"  I  fear,  madam,"  resumed  the  Prince,  "that 
I  but  weary  you.  My  views  are  formal  like 
myself,  and  like  myself,  they  also  begin  to 
grow  old.  But  I  must  still  trouble  you  for 
some  reply." 

"  I  can  say  but  one  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Des- 
borough  :  "I  love  my  husband." 

"It  is  a  good  answer,"  returned  the  Prince  ; 
"and  you  name  a  good  influence,  but  one  that 
need  not  be  conterminous  with  life." 

"  I  will  not  play  at  pride  with  such  a  man  as 
you,"  she  answered.  "What  do  you  ask 
of  me  %    not  protestations,  I  am  sure.     What 


322  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

shall  I  say?  I  have  done  much  that  I  can 
not  defend  and  that  I  would  not  do  again. 
Can  I  say  more  ?  Yes  :  I  can  say  this  :  I  never 
abused  myself  with  the  mnddle-headed  fairy 
tales  of  politics.  I  was  at  least  prepared  to 
meet  reprisals.  While  I  was  levying  war 
myself — or  levying  murder  if  you  choose  the 
plainer  term — I  never  accused  my  adversaries 
of  assassination.  I  never  felt  or  feigned  a 
righteous  horror,  when  a  price  was  put  upon  my 
life  by  those  whom  I  attacked.  I  never  called 
the  policeman  a  hireling.  I  may  have  been  a 
criminal,  in  short ;  but  never  was  a  fool." 

"Enough,  madam,"  returned  the  Prince: 
"more  than  enough!  Your  words  are  most 
reviving  to  my  spirits  ;  for  in  this  age,  when 
even  the  assassin  is  a  sentimentalist,  there  is 
no  virtue  greater  in  my  eyes  than  intellectual 
clarity.  Suffer  me  then  to  ask  you  to  retire  ; 
for  by  the  signal  of  that  bell,  I  perceive  my  old 
friend,  your  mother,  to  be  close  at  hand.  With 
her  I  promise  you  to  do  my  utmost." 

And  as  Mrs.  Desborough  returned  to  the 
Divan,  the  Prince,  opening  a  door  upon  the 
other  side,  admitted  Mrs.  Luxmore. 

"Madam  and  my  very  good  friend,"  said  he, 
"is  my  face  so  much  changed  that  you  no  long- 
er recognize  Prince  Florizel  in  Mr.  Godall?" 

"To  be  sure!"  she  cried,  looking  at  him 
through  her  glasses.    ' '  I  have  always  regarded 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  323 

your  Highness  as  a  perfect  man  ;  and  in  your 
altered  circumstances,  of  which  I  have  already 
heard  with  deep  regret,  I  will  beg  you  to 
consider  my  respect  increased  instead  of  les- 
sened." 

"  I  have  found  it  so,"  returned  the  Prince, 
"  with  every  class  of  my  acquaintance.  But, 
madam,  I  pray  you  to  be  seated.  My  business 
is  of  a  delicate  order  and  regards  your  daugh- 
ter." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Mrs.  Luxmore,  "you 
may  save  yourself  the  trouble  of  speaking,  for 
I  have  fully  made  up  my  mind  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  her.  I  will  not  hear  one  word  in 
her  defense  ;  but  as  I  value  nothing  so  particu- 
larly as  the  virtue  of  justice,  I  think  it  my 
duty  to  explain  to  you  the  grounds  of  my  com- 
plaint. She  deserted  me,  her  natural  protect- 
or ;  for  years,  she  has  consorted  with  the  most 
disreputable  persons  ;  and  to  fill  the  cup  of  her 
oifense,  she  has  recently  married.  I  refuse  to 
see  her,  or  the  being  to  whom  she  has  linked 
herself.  One  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  a 
year,  I  have  always  offered  her :  I  offer  it 
again.  It  is  what  I  had  myself  when  I  was  her 
age." 

"Very  well,  madam,"  said  the  Prince; 
"  and  be  that  so  !  But  to  touch  upon  another  : 
what  was  the  income  of  the  Reverend  Bernard 
FanshaweS" 


324  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

"My  father?  "  asked  the  spirited  old  lady. 
"  I  believe  lie  had  seven  hundred  pounds  in  the 
year." 

"You  were  one,  I  think,  of  several?"  pur- 
sued the  Prince. 

"  Of  four,"  was  the  reply.  "  TYre  were  four 
daughters  ;  and  painful  as  the  admission  is  to 
make,  a  more  detestable  family  could  scarce  be 
found  in  England." 

"  Dear  me!"  said  the  Prince.  "And  you, 
madam,  have  an  income  of  eight  thousand  ?  " 

"Not  more  than  five,"  returned  the  old 
lady  ;  ' '  but  where  on  earth  are  you  conducting 
me?" 

"  To  an  allowance  of  one  thousand  pounds  a 
year,"  replied  Florizel  smiling.  "For  I  must 
not  suffer  you  to  take  your  father  for  a  rule. 
He  was  poor,  you  are  rich.  He  had  many  calls 
upon  his  poverty  :  there  are  none  upon  your 
wealth.  And  indeed,  madam,  if  you  will  let 
me  touch  this  matter  with  a  needle,  there  is 
but  one  point  in  common  to  your  two  posi- 
tions :  that  each  had  a  daughter  more  remark- 
able for  liveliness  than  duty." 

"I  have  been  entrapped  into  this  house," 
said  the  old  lady,  getting  to  her  feet.  ' '  But  it 
shall  not  avail.  Not  all  the  tobacconists  in 
Europe  ..." 

"Ah,  madam,"  interrupted  Florizel,  "  before 
what  is  referred  to  as  my  fall,  you  had  not 


EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN.  325 

nsed  such  language  !  And  since  you  so  much 
object  to  the  simple  industry  by  which  I  live, 
let  me  give  you  a  friendly  hint.  If  you  will 
not  consent  to  support  your  daughter,  I  shall 
be  constrained  to  place  that  lady  behind  my 
counter,  where  I  doubt  not  she  would  prove  a 
great  attraction ;  and  your  son-in-law  shall 
have  a  livery  and  run  the  errands.  With  such 
young  blood  my  business  might  be  doubled, 
and  I  might  be  bound  in  common  gratitude,  to 
place  the  name  of  Luxmore  beside  that  of 
Godall." 

"Your  Highness,"  said  the  old  lady,  "I 
have  been  very  rude,  and  you  are  very  cunning. 
I  suppose  the  minx  is  on  the  premises.  Pro- 
duce her." 

"  Let  us  rather  observe  them  unperceived," 
said  the  Prince  ;  and  so  saying  he  rose  and 
quietly  drew  back  the  curtain. 

Mrs.  Desborough  sat  with  her  back  to  them 
on  a  chair  ;  Somerset  and  Harry  were  hanging 
on  her  words  with  extraordinary  interest ; 
Challoner,  alleging  some  affair,  had  long  ago 
withdrawn  from  the  detested  neighborhood  of 
the  enchantress. 

"At  that  moment,"  Mrs.  Desborough  was 
saying,  "Mr.  Gladstone  detected  the  features 
of  his  cowardly  assailant.  A  cry  rose  to  his 
lips:  a  cry  of  mingled  triumph  ..." 

"That  is  Mr.  Somerset!"   interrupted  the 


326  EPILOGUE  OF  THE  CIGAR  DIVAN. 

spirited  old  lady,  in  the  highest  note  of  her 
register.  "Mr.  Somerset,  what  have  you  done 
with  my  house-property  \ " 

"  Madam,"  said  the  Prince,  "let  it  be  mine 
to  give  the  explanation  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile? 
welcome  your  daughter." 

"Well,  Clara,  how  do  you  do?"  said  Mrs. 
Luxmore.  ' '  It  appears  I  am  to  give  you  an 
allowance.  So  much  the  better  for  you.  As 
for  Mr.  Somerset,  I  am  very  ready  to  have  an 
explanation  ;  for  the  whole  affair,  though  cost- 
ly, was  eminently  humorous.  And  at  any 
rate,"  she  added,  nodding  to  Paul,  "  he  is  a 
young  gentleman  for  whom  I  have  a  great 
affection,  and  his  pictures  were  the  funniest  I 
ever  saw." 

' '  I  have  ordered  a  collation,"  said  the  Prince. 
' '  Mr.  Somerset,  as  these  are  all  your  friends,  I 
propose,  if  you  please,  that  you  should  join 
them  at  table.     I  will  take  the  shop." 


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